


Break Me

by lexus_grey



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Humiliation, Rough Sex, This fic is very dark, Violence, blodreina, dark Raven - think 4x06, dub-con anal, see summary/notes for a better description
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-10-10 22:09:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20535389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexus_grey/pseuds/lexus_grey
Summary: Octavia has needs that she can’t get fulfilled as Blodreina. Raven is broken and angry, and the perfect person to help with that.TW: Violence and humiliation. PLEASE READ THE NOTES for a more detailed description of this fic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is different than what I usually write. Not entirely different, but somewhat different. I write a lot of BDSM, but this is more of a next-level twisted portrayal of that dynamic.
> 
> This is slightly AU in that nobody was captured by Diyoza and her army, so the spacekru and bunker people are camped in tents in the area outside the bunker. Except for Octavia who continues to live in the bunker.
> 
> I intend to have this fic slowly turn in a more positive direction, but that will be its own journey, and for right now I just have to warn that it's not fluffy, it's not nice, and there's no feel-good aspects as it stands currently. But it popped into my head and did not want to leave until I wrote it, and I actually really enjoyed writing it and think the idea is hot, I just don't want people heading into this fic without realizing it's really fucked up. =D

There were things she wanted. Things she craved. Needs that had been growing inside her that she couldn’t trust anyone to fulfill. _Anyone_. But now they were out of the bunker. She’d thought the freedom and fresh air might sate the beast inside, but it clawed at her day in and day out. So she watched. She waited. Silently, she sat on her throne, and when no one was looking, she thought.

Raven hated her. Just enough to judge her but not enough to kill her, and that was exactly what had her pacing her room, indecision tearing at her gut as she wound her hands in her hair and pulled.

\--

Quiet as death, she watched Raven self-destruct further and further, the mechanic’s righteous anger turning in on herself instead of out on the people around her. Octavia could give her something better than that.

Decision made, though her stomach twisted furiously, she approached Raven in the middle of the night, unsurprised to be met with a dagger to the throat when she stepped through the tent flap.

Raven’s hand tightened around the hilt of the dagger when she saw who was in her tent. “I should kill you…”

“I’m here to offer you something better,” Octavia said, her voice so low it was almost just a vibration. She tempered her breathing to avoid the tip of the dagger piercing her skin, but didn’t move away. When Raven didn’t press the advantage, she continued. “No one can know.”

Intrigued despite herself, Raven lowered the dagger and sheathed it back at her hip. “I doubt you have anything I want. Unless you have a mind drive that rewinds time.”

“You’re angry, but you only hurt yourself.”

“What the _fuck_ do you want?” Raven asked impatiently.

“I told you. I come with an offer. Will you hear it?”

The familiar anger bubbled up but she quelled it. “If it’s out of your murderous mouth in the next ten seconds.”

Octavia bristled, a comment about respect on the tip of her tongue, but that would be useless here. And the opposite of what she wanted, after all. She would save the longer explanation for later given the time constraint Raven had employed, and just lay her cards on the table. “Me,” she said. “Take me somewhere private. Hurt me. Humiliate me. Break me. And then do it all over again.”

Raven heard the words but they were impossible to reconcile with the woman before her. She opened her mouth to tell the red queen to go fuck herself, to never show her face in the camp again, but what came out was “two clicks north.”

Octavia had to force herself to remain upright and look unaffected, when in fact it felt like her bones had crushed themselves to dust. “When?”

Raven stepped closer to her and breathed her air. “Right now.”

“I need to slip out of here unnoticed. I’ll catch up with you within the hour.”

\--

She could see a building in the distance when they’d gone almost the three miles. “What is it?”

“An abandoned warehouse.”

“How did you find it?”

Raven ignored the question and kept walking. Her fucking leg hurt.

“How did you find it?” Octavia insisted, her voice icy. “Who else knows about it?”

“No one,” Raven finally snapped. “Your precious crown is safe. Shut the fuck up.”

“How d—” Octavia stopped herself and sucked in a breath through flared nostrils, exhaling slowly through the same. “Once I’m in that building, no matter what you do, I won’t hurt you,” she said instead.

“Forgive me if I call bullshit on the great _Blodreina_ lowering her weapons.”

“Don’t you dare use my name like that,” Octavia hissed, her tone ominous as her eyes narrowed, hands twitching at her sides.

They reached the building and Raven stopped at the door, turning to face Octavia. “Before we go in there, I want to know why.”

“Why what?”

“Why everything. Why me, why do you want this, what do you expect me to do?”

“You because I trust you. You’re angry, but you’re broken, not a killer. You’re strong. The world owes you. You’ve haunted my dreams.”

Raven took that in stride even if one eye squinted skeptically. “And the rest? Why do you want this? What exactly is it you want from me?”

“I can’t get what I need from anyone who serves _Blodreina_,” she started to explain. “There’s a black hole inside of me, twisted around every part of me, and it craves submission. It begs for the moment I don’t have to wear the crown, to command my army, to protect my people, to be responsible for every_one_ and every_thing_. It sickens me the way they look to me to save them when all I want is to kiss the dirt and taste the grit of someone more powerful than me.”

Raven was shocked senseless for a second, her mind reeling. “You think I’m more powerful than you?”

It was Octavia who stepped closer this time and breathed Raven’s air. “A hundred thousand times.”

Raven needed a minute to process that and she turned away from Octavia, fishing the old rusted key to the building out of her pocket and wrestling with the lock until the door creaked open. She slid inside, allowing the other woman in behind her before she shut them in, engaging the deadbolt that had no key. No one could get in now even if they happened by.

Octavia looked around but couldn’t see much. Moonlight didn’t exactly bend around shelves and corners. She had barely taken a step when she was forced up against the heavy steel door face first, Raven’s hand around the back of her neck and a forearm across her shoulder blades, hips pressing into her ass. She pushed back against the hold but stayed true to her word, she didn’t raise a hand or reach for a weapon. The longer Raven held her there the harder she breathed. She counted her breaths to gauge the time, but lost track after awhile and didn’t bother starting over. She couldn’t take stock with her eyes so she focused on her other senses. The metal was oxidized; it smelled like rust. Old and dull, not fresh and noxious. It bit into her cheek in three different places. The only thing she could hear was her own breathing. Time to change that. She was getting too comfortable and she had promised not to hurt Raven, so the only thing she could use was her words. “Do you think Finn suffered?”

The sound assaulted Raven like a gunshot and she jumped, not having expected it after such a long silence. “Don’t bother baiting me, there’s anger enough already, I’m just trying to decide what to do with it,” she whispered in Octavia’s ear.

“He probably didn’t. He was probably happy to die for the girl he’d been fucking behind your back for months.”

Raven’s fingers twitched and she fought not to rise to the bait. This was going to be on her terms. “If you say another word to deliberately rile me up, I will let go of you, walk out that door, and never look back,” she said calmly. “Shut your fucking mouth and wait like a good little bitch.”

Octavia wasn’t sure what to do with that. Her one weapon had just been turned against her. She ground her teeth trying to decide how to respond, and ended up pushing back harder against the hold, dislodging Raven’s stance, but she wouldn’t make any offensive moves.

Raven released her and took a step back, unsure whether Octavia was going to attack, but when no further move was made against her, she circled around in front of the girl. “Take off your clothes.”

Octavia was thrown for a loop at that and tried to counterbalance. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Unlikely.”

“I can strip you if I need to, but a good little bitch would do as she’s told and take off her fucking clothes.”

Octavia’s hackles rose even at the same time her brain screamed that this was exactly what she wanted. To follow orders. To be made to do whatever Raven decided she should do. But she wanted Raven to earn it; to force her. Respect had to be earned. Obedience had to be earned. Devotion had to be earned. “No.”

Raven slapped her. Then she stood there waiting for the guilt to come, but it never did. “Take off your clothes.”

Octavia sucked in a sharp breath, then rolled her shoulders and stood up straighter. “No.”

This time Raven threw a right hook, knocking Octavia backwards on her ass. “Take off your clothes.”

That Octavia had fully not expected and she turned her head to the side, spitting blood. Her decision to resist channeled down a notch. But… what else would Raven do? “No.”

Raven hauled her to her feet and slammed her into a shelf, then backhanded her across the mouth. “Take off your clothes.”

If she wasn’t careful, Raven would knock a tooth loose. She thought about obeying, her hands itching to undo her cloak, and she started to move one before she dropped it back to her side, resistance flaring hot in her chest, refusing to be easily doused. “No.”

Raven’s expression darkened and she slowly turned Octavia around, bringing an arm up behind her back and twisting it just right so that she could snap it with moderate effort. “I won’t kill you, but do not make the mistake of thinking I won’t break your fucking arm,” she said, her voice so low she could barely hear herself, but she knew Octavia heard her by the sudden tension in every muscle she could feel. “Take off your clothes.”

Octavia waited to be released, but Raven kept her just like that, and her cunt clenched at the realization she was expected to obey anyway. Raven certainly had her attention now. And a little bit of respect. She raised her free hand and unbuckled her cloak, careful not to move in any way that would do Raven’s job for her. She exhaled slowly and pulled the cloak away from her right shoulder, then her left, which had it hanging from Raven’s wrist given the position they were in.

Raven was fairly certain she had proved herself at this point and that Octavia would continue if she let her go, so she slowly loosened her hold until the arm was safe, then stepped out of the way, letting the cloak fall to the floor.

Octavia cautiously shook out her arm, keeping in a sigh of relief, and stayed facing away from Raven as she unlaced her gauntlets, fingers trembling as she pulled at the leather ties. When they were loose enough she took them off and tossed them aside. The pauldrons were easier; they had buckles and she discarded them in a similar fashion. The straps crisscrossing her chest came next, which held her weapons belt in place. She took care to set that down, feeling the cumbersome weight of it leave her with a tiny touch of gratitude. She flexed her hands before starting on the chestplate and leather vest beneath it. She had done this probably hundreds of times, but never like this. She removed the armor, then her greaves, chaps and boots, leaving her in leather pants and a black ribbed cotton tank top. “Will that do?”

Raven leaned down and tugged the laces out of one of the gauntlets, then straightened back up and swung them around a few times and snapped the tips across a bare shoulder. “You haven’t even taken off any clothes yet.”

Octavia hissed at the contact, feeling welts rise on her shoulder that burned more than just her skin. Her pride felt the lash as well. She blew out a calming breath and grabbed the hem of her tank top, ripping it off over her head and throwing it to the floor. She paused too long and another lash landed on her other shoulder, then another immediately after that across her upper back. Her skin sang something fierce at that and she pushed over the shelf in front of her with a howl of rage before finally undoing her pants.

Raven raised an eyebrow at the temper tantrum and cringed a little as whatever had been living on the shelving unit crashed to the floor and presumably shattered.

_Blodreina_ was naked in front of no one, and with Ilian she kept most of her clothes on. The last time Octavia had been naked in front of someone was with Lincoln. Raven was taking that away. That was the reason for her hesitation with the pants, but she couldn’t just admit it. So she raged and snarled and growled at the wall like a caged animal, because in some ways, that’s exactly how she felt.

Raven dropped the pieces of leather and gave Octavia a minute. She was frankly surprised she’d gotten this far, but she intended to see this all the way through.

Octavia started pacing, the stone floor cold under her bare feet, until Raven’s unwavering voice stopped her.

“If I have to take those pants off of you, you’ll wish I’d broken your arm.”

The brazen threat knocked the wind out of her, and maybe two or three years ago it wouldn’t have held water, but today it did. That’s why she chose Raven. She halted her movements and weighed her chances of drawing this out further, wondering despite herself what would be worse than a broken arm, but there was no way to find out without experiencing it so she shed the last vestiges of modesty and what felt like her last link to Lincoln, pushing her pants down and stepping out of them, standing stark naked in front of Raven Reyes.

Raven stepped up behind her and whispered against the back of her neck. “How the mighty have fallen. Get on your knees.” If Octavia wanted to be humiliated, Raven had plenty of ammunition. She didn’t wait for compliance this time, she kicked the top of Octavia’s calves, sending her down.

Octavia grunted when her knees hit the unforgiving floor. “Did you learn this position from your mommy?” she taunted.

Raven laughed, a hollow, mirthless sound, and wound a hand in Octavia’s hair, tugging lightly. “You will regret that, Octavia, I promise you.” She let go of Octavia’s hair and put a boot between her shoulder blades, forcing her forward onto her stomach. “Is this how you spent your childhood? How much space was under the floor?”

Octavia let out a scream and pushed up onto her elbows, but Raven was quick; knocked her arms out from under her and held her down.

“Was there enough room to sit up? Did you close your eyes and cover your ears while your mom sucked off the captain of the guard?”

Octavia’s scream turned primal and she tried everything she could to get out from under Raven without attacking her.

“Or did you watch, maybe? Once you got older, got curious? I bet you’re wet right now, aren’t you? I bet you’re fucking drenched thinking about it…”

“Stop!” Octavia finally begged, tears of frustration streaking her face as she clawed at the floor to keep from clawing Raven’s eyes out. Frustration turned to shame when she felt fingers between her legs, three slipping easily inside her. Yes, she was drenched, but not for the reason Raven fabricated. A needy moan mixed with a cry of protest and the humiliation she’d been dying to feel now stained her cheeks with white-hot fire.

“Ohhhh,” Raven taunted her, pushing in hard. “If Cooper could see you now…”

Octavia was beyond defiance now and she stopped fighting, pressing back into Raven’s hand. “Please,” she panted, her breath coming in labored spurts. “Tear me apart.”

“_Blodreina_ says please,” Raven continued to humiliate her. That was what she had been tasked with, hadn’t she? “Three fingers buried in her cunt and it’s still not enough… you filthy fucking _whore_…”

“I am,” Octavia cried, trying to press back harder but Raven wouldn’t let her. “Please!”

“Please what? Please fuck you harder? Please stop? Please what, Octavia?”

She hadn’t let anyone call her that since the rise of _Blodreina_, and it pricked at her even as it shrouded her in comfort. “Please fuck me harder,” she said immediately, having no more desire to test her tormentor. Raven had absolutely earned her respect.

“I will fuck you as hard as I feel like fucking you,” Raven shut down her request. “And if you don’t stop trying to force me deeper then the hilt of my dagger’s gonna be buried in your ass.”

Octavia’s hips went stock still.

“There’s a good little bitch,” Raven said with a smirk, slowing down her thrusts until she could feel Octavia’s muscles being pushed to their limits to keep her still. The girl’s entire body was shaking with the effort. She was actually impressed at the level of self-control. She moved torturously slowly for a few more seconds and then rewarded the compliance with a punishing thrust.

Octavia yelled out in surprise, keeping her hips still, not willing to do anything to make Raven take this away. Her muscles ached like they hadn’t ached since she first started training with the grounders. It was deceptively hard to make herself hold still while someone was fucking her.

A few more of those near-savage thrusts had Octavia clenching around her fingers and coming hard. Raven blinked in surprise, her stomach twisting with an unnamed feeling as a fresh wave of slick heat coated her hand. She was thrown off balance for a moment, unsure what to do, and when she sensed Octavia was experiencing the same hesitation, she slowly pulled her fingers out and put them against the girl’s lips. “I didn’t say you could come, little girl,” she said in a foreboding tone. “Clean it up.”

Octavia took Raven’s fingers in her mouth and sucked them clean, at this point willing to do anything for the other girl’s approval. This was the vulnerable moment; the moment when Octavia shone through and _Blodreina_ took a back seat; a chance to be herself without the oppression of power. “Please,” she whispered when she had swallowed the last drop. “I didn’t know I would feel like this… please let me have just one minute… just one, please, where somebody doesn’t hate me.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Raven said in alarm, pulling her hand back. “The deal was I hurt you, humiliate you and break you. I’d say I accomplished your goals. And your people don’t hate you. That’s what makes them so stupid. Get dressed and get out.” Abusing _Blodreina_ was one thing, but the girl on the floor in front of her was dangerously close to being Octavia Blake, and that she couldn’t abide.

Octavia gave a strangled sob and turned her face away from Raven, mentally calling on her compartmentalization abilities to box her emotions back into place. Each one snapped away, piece by piece, and she hated her moment of weakness as much as she reveled in it. Raven had indeed done what she asked. Masterfully. She dressed quickly, with the exception of having to re-lace one of her gauntlets, and she stopped at the door. “As soon as I leave this building, you mean nothing to me.”

“I mean nothing to you anyway. Now get the fuck out.”

That wasn’t true, but it wasn’t something she could argue, either. She unlocked the door and pulled it open, stepping out into the moonlit desert and starting the trek back to the bunker. To the prison she called home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter didn't get any lighter... while it's a bit less physically fucked up, it's even more emotionally battering, so be warned of that.
> 
> az gada - ice girl  
Azheda - Ice Commander  
strikgada - little girl

Octavia shot three more of her people over internal disputes the next day. As she stripped off her armor and handed it over to Cooper, who would hand it over to someone else to clean it, she turned around to leave her quarters, only realizing her mistake when she heard Kara gasp from behind her.

“_Blodreina_, what happened to your shoulders?” Kara asked, dropping the armful of gear on the bed and rushing forward to examine the wounds more closely.

“Nothing,” Octavia said through clenched teeth, spinning back around to face Kara. “Do you think I’m immune to injury?”

“Those look like lash marks,” Kara said with a brooding frown.

“Very good,” Octavia said, clapping her hands with obvious sarcasm. “No doubt from a tree branch during yesterday’s hunt. If you’re so worried about them, maybe you should cut down all the trees.”

Kara flushed, turning away to pick up the discarded armor. “I would if that wouldn’t make hunting impossible,” she muttered as she made a quick exit.

Octavia sank down onto the edge of the bed, reaching around with one hand to trail her fingers over a few of the welts. How long could she hold out before she once more sought Raven’s mastery? Would Raven even entertain the idea again?

\--

Raven thought she was going to hate herself in the morning, but she didn’t. She wouldn’t say she was proud or excited, but she didn’t hate herself. In fact, she went about the day as if nothing had happened, except for the occasional flash of memory – Octavia’s skin welting under the lash. The feeling of being inside her. The compliance she’d gained through unrelenting violence.

“You seem… lighter,” Clarke said randomly while they were sparring in a clearing near the camp.

“What?” Raven snapped, her staff connecting sharply with her opponent’s feet, swiping them out from under her. A flash of Octavia sprawled on her ass assaulted her when Clarke went down. “I’m not fucking lighter.” She reached out a hand to help Clarke up.

Clarke grasped her forearm and let Raven help pull her up, a smirk crossing her features. “Nice shot. Go again?”

“You know it.”

\--

She lasted two days. _Two days_ and she was back in Raven’s tent, crouched on the ground watching her sleep. She was torn between waking her and just staying there to watch. She didn’t have to make a decision, though, because Raven’s eyes opened and the mechanic sat up.

“It’s like two in the morning. Don’t you have something better to do than beg me to be an asshole?” She had known it was Octavia before she was even fully awake.

Octavia stayed crouched on the ground and didn’t offer an answer. She just looked at Raven; a silent challenge.

“My leg isn—”

“I’ll carry you.”

Raven snorted out a laugh. “That desperate to be manhandled and humiliated?”

Again, no answer, just an intense gaze.

“Jesus Christ,” Raven muttered. “Fine.” She had told herself that if Octavia sought her out again she would say no. Best laid plans… “I’m bringing some things with me this time. You can carry the pack.”

Octavia stayed in her crouched position, waiting for Raven to gather up whatever she was going to bring, but both of her eyebrows shot up when the mechanic just grabbed a pack from underneath her cot and tossed it over. “You’re going to pretend you haven’t been waiting for this when you already had this packed?”

“Being prepared for anything helps me minimize the clusterfuck that my life has become,” Raven snapped. “Shut up and get moving.” At the look on Octavia’s face, she scoffed. “You didn’t expect me to be nicer this time, did you?”

The look of superiority faded into a smirk. “No.” She wanted Raven to be harsher. “I killed three more of our people since the last time we saw each other.”

Raven’s face set into a mask of disgust. “I heard the shots.”

Gauntlet laid down, Octavia finally straightened up and hefted Raven’s pack over one shoulder. “I’ll meet you in the tree line. Give me a ten minute head start.”

As Octavia slipped out the tent flap, Raven noticed the faint welts on her shoulders; almost gone, but a reminder of what she’d done. A shiver raced up her spine and she popped her neck in an effort to take back control of herself. As she cracked her knuckles after, she realized that if she could see Octavia’s shoulders, that meant _Blodreina_ wasn’t even wearing her armor tonight. How had she not noticed that sooner? And how did Octavia escape Cooper’s overprotective fawning in order to leave the bunker dressed like an average human being?

\--

This time when Raven bolted the door behind them she didn’t shove Octavia up against it. “Get the lantern out of the pack,” she said blandly. “Turn it on and find somewhere to hang it so we can see past our eyelashes.”

Octavia wasn’t sure how much she liked the idea of doing this with the lights on, but she rummaged through until she found the lantern, then turned the dial to light it up and lifted it to look around. There wasn’t much there, really. Most of the shelving units were empty. There were a few non-functioning machines at either end of the cavernous room, and finally she spied a good spot to hang the lantern. One of the cross beams overhead had a dozen or so hooks screwed into it and she had to jump to get the damn thing in place, but she got it.

“How did you get past Cooper dressed like that?” Raven finally couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer.

“Are you joking? I snuck out after I knew she was down for the night.”

Raven almost laughed, but that would have been too normal, so she grunted instead. “Did she see those marks?”

“I told her it was a tree branch. She wanted to cut down all the trees.”

“Maybe I should have made you cut a switch. Then it would be true,” Raven mused, her eyes roaming Octavia’s form.

“Is that what Abby makes you do before you’re allowed to lick her pussy?”

So they were starting already, were they? Instead of getting angry, she turned the tables with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “No,” she replied casually. “It’s what I make Bellamy do before he’s allowed to lick mine.”

Her words had the intended effect; Octavia became instantly enraged and picked up a folding chair, smashing it into the floor again and again until Raven was behind her, arms wrapped around her, restraining her.

“Drop the chair,” Raven whispered. “You know what I just said isn’t true, but you let it get to you anyway.”

“That’s my brother!” Octavia shouted, the topic an obviously sore one, but she did as Raven demanded and dropped the chair.

“And he’s balls deep in the _Azgeda_ spy, not thinking for a second about me, or you,” Raven continued. “And that kills you… big brother doesn’t even call you his sister anymore. He disowned you when he found out what you’ve done. What you’ve allowed yourself to become.”

Octavia growled low in her throat. “You weren’t down there. You don’t know anything,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “He doesn’t know anything.”

“You’re not down there anymore,” Raven pointed out, her restraining hold tightening. “And you’re still killing. You can’t let go of the killing because you’re a fucking monster,” she hissed. “What did this week’s sacrificial lambs do? Kiss the wrong side of your boots?”

“Attempted gang rape of a minor, but who’s keeping track?” Octavia shot back.

Raven didn’t allow that to penetrate past the outer layer of her consciousness because she didn’t want Octavia to have a good excuse for murder. And that was a damn good excuse. So she quickly distanced herself, mentally and physically. “Take your hair down.”

Octavia reached up and unwound the ties in her hair, letting it fall loose.

“Turn around.”

Octavia turned.

“Get undressed.”

This time she didn’t make Raven work for it. She got out of her boots first, then pulled off her tank top and pushed her pants down, stepping out of them and kicking them away, standing naked.

Raven stepped forward and took her down to the ground with a hand around her throat, then sat between her knees, forcing them apart with her own. “Touch yourself.”

The color drained from Octavia’s face and the air vacated her lungs in a whoosh. “What?”

Hands landed on _Blodreina_’s thighs, nails digging in until they drew blood. “Touch yourself.”

“I’m not gonna do that. I don’t even do that when I’m alone.”

“Too bad you’re not in charge, Octavia,” Raven said, the name uttered with a sneer.

“You can’t make me touch myself.”

“I made you take your clothes off… it only took a few hits and a whispered threat.”

“I’m not fucking doing it, Raven,” Octavia insisted, her voice raising.

Raven slapped her face, forcing the girl’s head to the side, and then she slapped the same spot again for good measure.

Octavia grunted in surprise at the repeat slap, but there was no way she was going to lay there and touch herself in front of anyone. That was just… that was a level of humiliation past what she could endure.

Raven slapped her again, and again, only stopping when she split Octavia’s lip. She would have to get creative if she wanted compliance on this one, she could already tell. And it made her irritated that Octavia was resisting. She had already proved herself; Octavia should be obeying.

She reached behind her to the discarded pack, dragging out a length of rope, and proceeded to wrap it around each of Octavia’s wrists in turn, then around both a few times, looping it in multiple directions to secure it before standing and tugging on it to get Octavia to her feet.

Octavia raised an eyebrow but lay still and let Raven bind her hands, then got up when she felt the tug. She tried to wriggle her wrists free, just to see if she could, but Raven was skilled and she wasn’t going anywhere unless the mechanic untied her or cut the rope.

Raven eyed the cross beam above their heads. It looked sturdy enough, so she tossed the end of the rope up and over, catching it on the other side, and pulled until Octavia’s arms were stretched out above her head. She tied it off on the post to her left and then stepped up behind Octavia, laying her hands on the girl’s waist, trying to decide what to do with her.

The inaction let her thoughts stray. She thought of Finn. She thought of Wick. She thought of the bastards at Mount Weather. She thought of Murphy, which made her think of her leg, which made her angry. Then she thought about Octavia coming to ask to be hurt and humiliated, and now telling her no. That made her angrier. So she said the worst thing she could possibly say. If she hadn’t hated herself after last time, she was sure she would hate herself after this. “Lincoln must not have loved you as much as you thought he did.”

Octavia froze, her face throbbing, and now her heart started racing, trying to beat out of her chest. “What the fuck did you just say?” she snarled, hands clenching into fists. She probably would have lost her resolve not to attack if Raven hadn’t tied her up. “That subject is off limits.”

“He had the chance to go with you, but he chose to stay behind, knowing he would be executed. He left you.”

“Shut up.”

“He left,” Raven hissed, her words harsh and hot against Octavia’s ear.

“Shut up, Raven…” She struggled to get free again, imagining she could conjure the strength to pull down the crossbeam; the entire warehouse, with the force of her emotion.

“Everyone leaves you,” Raven said then, her voice going from hissing anger to quiet malevolence. _Just like everyone leaves me_, she added in her head.

“Raven, stop.”

“Your mother, Lincoln, Ilian, Bellamy… none of them loved you enough to stay around.”

“Stop!” Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she jerked so hard on the rope that she dislocated her right shoulder. She didn’t care, though, she actually welcomed the pain. Something to distract her from Raven’s horrible truths. She did it again, trying to hurt the other one, but Raven grabbed her around the elbows and she didn’t have the leverage to resist.

“You know exactly how to stop me,” Raven almost purred, her face close enough to lick away a trail of hot tears.

Octavia recoiled from the touch, anger flaring at the knowledge of why Raven was doing this. “You’re torturing me because I won’t fucking touch myself?” she asked, incredulous.

“I’m torturing you because you asked to be tortured… I’m adding a little extra spice because you are not… being… a good little bitch,” Raven explained. “You want me to hit you and hold you down, make you bruise and bleed, but you disobeyed. You aren’t going to get what you want.” She paused for a beat, then continued her tirade. “How selfish do you have to be to risk your mother’s life just to go to a party?”

Octavia hated the fresh tears that welled at the memory. “Bellamy wanted me to g—”

“Oh, blaming your big brother? How original,” Raven taunted. “Does he think it’s his fault that your mother got floated? He doesn’t, I’ll bet. He knows who’s fault it is… doesn’t he, O?”

The nickname pulled a whimpering mewl from her throat. No one but Bellamy called her that. “He doesn’t blame me,” she insisted, those fresh tears falling.

“His life ended the day you were born, remember?”

Bellamy’s own words echoed in Raven’s voice hit her like a punch to the gut and she sagged in her bonds, shaking her head. “No, he didn’t mean that…”

“Maybe Lincoln found out and blamed you too. Maybe that’s why he chose death over life with you…”

Octavia completely broke at that, her head hanging forward, sobs wracking her body as she gave in. “Stop, please, I’ll do it,” she begged.

Already unhappy with herself, Raven untied the rope from the post and leveraged it back over the crossbeam so she could lower Octavia’s arms. She worked open the knot securing her wrists and unwound the rest of the rope until the girl was free. Then she grabbed her by the elbow and the shoulder, quickly forcing the joint back into place before Octavia had time to react.

Octavia yelled as her shoulder popped back in, then rolled it a few times to loosen it up, tears still trailing down her face as she waited for Raven to move her. Being humiliated was a thousand times more appealing than standing there having what was left of her soul crushed.

Raven turned away from her to ball up the rope and shove it back into the pack, blinking back her own tears, and when she had herself under control she spun back around, hating Octavia for asking her to do this. Hating herself for enjoying it. “On your back,” she barked, standing with her arms folded across her chest. “Don’t make me tell you, just do it.”

Octavia sat down and carefully leaned back, the stone floor unyielding beneath her. She closed her eyes and reached a shaking hand down to stroke up her thigh, feathering her fingers between her legs, an embarrassed flush crawling from her cheeks down over her neck and chest. The fact that she was wet just made it worse. Her face burned as she slid her fingers back and forth, not sure whether she wanted to try focusing on the touch itself or on anything but.

Raven adopted a leering expression, but it didn’t feel nearly as good as she’d hoped it would to gain compliance. Last time it had felt empowering; amazing; arousing. But this time it was flat and empty. She knew it was because she had spouted filthy lies just to make Octavia hurt. Because it was easier to be miserable when she made Octavia miserable. Because she couldn’t make herself stop once she had laid down the challenge. But winning that way felt hollow. She should stop Octavia now and confess. But she knew she wouldn’t. Her pride wasn’t ready to let her do that.

Taking a slow breath, Raven unfurled her arms and slowly stretched out on her side, propped up on one elbow, right next to Octavia, knees and hips lightly touching her.

Octavia jumped, not having expected to feel any contact, and having her eyes closed she hadn’t seen Raven coming. She closed them even tighter now, feeling so much more like the innocent girl she had once been than the ruthless queen she had become. “Don’t make me do this, please,” she whispered, her voice catching.

Raven reached her free hand up to brush Octavia’s hair out of her eyes, even though they were closed. Her voice was the opposite, all smooth honey and confidence. “Spread your legs wider for me and put a finger inside,” she purred.

Octavia choked on a whimper and slid her knees further apart, her face threatening to burst into actual flames as she tentatively circled her entrance with one finger and pushed a little way inside. “_Az gada_,” she breathed.

Raven blinked. Did Octavia just call her ice girl? “Watch yourself or I’ll have you fingering your asshole,” she warned.

Octavia would literally die. She hadn’t realized that Raven would know what she’d said. She opened her eyes and fixed them on the other girl’s, a word tumbling out unchecked in an attempt to appease her. “_Azheda_,” she corrected herself. “_Beja_, _Azheda_.”

Raven shivered at the new title. Ice Commander. That did something to her. “Two fingers,” she directed simply. “Make yourself come.”

Even though Raven wasn’t throwing punches and slapping her around, forcing her on her knees, whipping her with small strips of leather, this was knocking her down just as much. Maybe more. It wasn’t violent, but it was effective. It wasn’t fast or chaotic; it was calculated. It put her in her place more than anything else Raven could have done to her. And her pleas did nothing to help her. Touching herself was bad enough, but making herself come… she didn’t even know if she’d be able to.

When Octavia didn’t immediately put another finger inside herself, Raven raised an eyebrow. “Do you think Niylah or Kara would enjoy watching you do this? Seeing you spread out and flushed for me, fucking yourself for me? What about Indra? Maybe even Kane…”

Octavia bit her lip, imagining any one of them watching, and she didn’t know if she slid a second finger in to shut Raven up or because the thought was just dirty enough to make her wetter.

“You have five minutes,” Raven said darkly.

Octavia didn’t have to ask ‘or what?’ because she already knew. She slid her fingers out a little ways and back in, the feeling nothing at all compared to the way Raven’s fingers had stretched her the other night. She’d never be able to come like this. Maybe that was Raven’s plan all along. She had no way of knowing. She screwed up her nerve enough to ask, “_Azheda_, can I touch my clit?” Anything was better than the consequence of failure. She’d never had anything near her ass before and she didn’t intend to start by herself.

Raven’s thighs twitched at the question. “Yes, little girl, play with your clit,” she allowed, gravel soaking her voice.

She wished Raven would play with it for her. She ached to be filled so good again. No one had ever dared be so rough with her and it had been indescribable. She imagined Raven reaching over and fucking her hard, while in reality she rubbed one finger of her free hand over her clit in circles. That was the best chance she had of making herself come without actually being into what she was doing. As the physical stimulation started to do its job, her hips squirmed, chasing a firmer touch that she couldn’t give herself, and she threw her head to the side, facing away from Raven. “I wish they were your fingers,” she breathed, a ghost of a whisper. The confession sent a shudder rippling through her even if Raven didn’t hear her.

There was nothing wrong with Raven’s hearing, just her leg, and her pulse kicked up a notch at the words probably not meant for her ears. “Finish yourself off and I might consider it,” she growled quietly.

While that shouldn’t have been a motivator given her current situation, the possibility of having Raven’s fingers inside her made her try even harder than the threat of what would happen if she didn’t come. “I’m trying,” she panted, arching her back, rubbing faster with her left hand and pushing deeper with her right. The more worked up she got, the less embarrassed she was, which in turn made her more bold with her efforts. She rocked her hips up into her fingers, drawing her knees up and spreading her legs wider. “Can you see?” she asked between heavy breaths. “Can you see my fingers up my cunt, _Azheda_, just for you? I wouldn’t do this for anyone else…” Her own words excited her despite her latent anger at being forced to do this, and she could feel the pressure starting to build.

Raven’s hand not supporting her head itched to reach out and touch Octavia, but she forced it still. “Yes, _strikgada_, I can see… They don’t fill you up like I do, do they?”

The question should have infuriated her, but it just fueled the frenzy. “Not even close,” she moaned, back arching up off the floor as she finally did it, finally hit the right spot in just the right way and held tight, giving a quiet cry as her body tensed, shuddering out a release.

Raven didn’t even give her a moment to recover. She growled and slapped Octavia hard on the hip. “Hands and knees. _Now_.”

Octavia didn’t need to be told that one twice and she flipped over, pushing up onto her hands and knees, sheer force of will able to overpower her body’s need to take a minute.

Raven wasted no time sinking three fingers in the girl from behind, _her_ sheer force of will overpowering the protest that her bad leg was violently staging. She didn’t give a shit right then; the pain was almost welcome. Feeling Octavia clench around her fingers was the most important thing in her universe at that moment, and hearing the wanton cry from beneath her just made it all the more so.

Octavia lurched forward with the force of the penetration, dropping her head down between her shoulders, the tips of her hair sweeping the floor. “Fuck,” she gasped, genuinely afraid that this was already becoming an addiction.

Raven was definitely addicted to something about this. There was no need for her to be afraid of it happening because it was already said and done. She pulled out and pounded back in, over and over until Octavia was a writhing, whimpering mess. “What the fuck are you waiting for?” she asked when she could feel her holding back.

Octavia tilted her head up, hair spilling over her shoulder blades, hips grinding onto Raven’s fingers. “Permission…”

Jesus Christ. If she hadn’t been addicted before, she would have been now. She gathered a fistful of dark locks and squeezed, fingers never slowing. “Come, _strikgada_.” It was as much an order as it was permission.

Octavia took it as both and clamped her thighs shut on Raven’s hand, giving a feral cry as a second orgasm was ripped from her, setting her nerves on fire.

When Octavia’s body relaxed and let her hand free, she pulled her fingers out and put them to the girl’s mouth. Octavia dutifully cleaned them off and she slumped down to sit, her leg screaming at her for its flagrant mistreatment.

Octavia never would have imagined tasting her own come before the other night, but now it seemed natural. She made the mistake of sitting next to Raven and draping a hand across her lap while she tried to calm her over-sensitized body.

“Don’t touch me,” Raven said instantly, shoving Octavia’s hand from her lap. “We’re not girlfriends. This is an arrangement. One that you asked for. Keep to it.” The truth was, if Raven was scared of anything, it was getting close. To anyone. For any reason, and in any form. Now that she had developed this twisted relationship with Octavia, she didn’t want to lose it, so she didn’t want to let it change. That was the manifestation of her PTSD, she knew, but she couldn’t do anything to assuage the terror that that casual touch evoked.

Octavia hadn’t meant to do it. She wouldn’t have done it if she’d thought about it, knowing how Raven would react. She’d learned that the hard way the other night. That didn’t mean the rejection didn’t sting. She looked around for her clothes, figuring Raven was done with her.

When she was dressed and at the door, Raven still hadn’t moved or spoken. The other girl’s voice chased her as she stepped outside.

“Wear the gauntlets next time. I like the laces.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angsty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it sick of me  
To need control of you?  
Is it sick to make  
You beg the way I do?  
Is it sick of me  
To want you crawling on your knees?  
Is it sick to say  
I want you biting down on me  
Are you sick like me?  
Am I beautiful  
As I tear you to pieces?  
Am I beautiful?  
Even at my ugliest, you always say  
I'm beautiful  
As you tear me to pieces  
You are beautiful  
Even at your ugliest, I always say  
You're beautiful and sick like me  
Is it sick of me  
To feed the animal in you?  
Is it sick to say  
I tease the hunter like I do?  
Is it sick of me  
To watch the wicked way you thrill?  
Is it sick to say  
I live to break your will  
Are you sick like me?  
Am I beautiful  
As I tear you to pieces?  
Am I beautiful?  
Even at my ugliest, you always say  
I'm beautiful  
As you tear me to pieces  
You are beautiful  
Even at your ugliest, I always say  
You're beautiful and sick like me  
Am I beautiful  
As I tear you to pieces?  
I am beautiful  
Even at my ugliest, you always say  
I'm beautiful  
As I tear you to pieces  
Am I beautiful  
Even at my ugliest, you always say  
You're beautiful  
As I tear you to pieces?  
You are beautiful  
Even at you ugliest, I always say  
You're beautiful and sick like me
> 
> \--Sick Like Me,  
In This Moment

Kara was pacing the hall outside of Octavia’s quarters when she returned. An internal groan welled up and she forced it down. “What the hell are you doing?” she asked instead.

Kara jumped and turned toward her, rushing forward. “_Blodreina_, where have you been? I’ve been stationed here while Indra and Miller head up a search party!” Her eyes roamed Octavia’s armorless body and widened. “Why are you unprotected? What is going on?” And then her eyes hit Octavia’s face; her split lip, and Octavia thought she was going to combust. “Who did this to you?”

That whole thing took place in the span of about one point five seconds or Octavia would have interrupted. “Settle down, Cooper. I went into the camp for a friendly spar.”

“Whoever did this is going to lose a hand,” Kara vowed, ushering Octavia into her quarters as she radioed Indra and Miller that the queen had returned.

Octavia went along with it because she had nothing better to do this early in the morning, and she sank down onto her bed while Kara fussed about cleaning up her lip and affixing a butterfly bandage. “No one’s losing a hand,” she said when her attendant was satisfied with her patch job.

“I can’t let this go unpunished,” Kara said with a frown.

Octavia raised an eyebrow. “You can if your queen tells you to,” she said pointedly.

Cowed, Kara dropped her eyes. “I’m sorry, _Blodreina_. Of course.”

“Could you try to kiss my ass just a little less?” Octavia asked out of nowhere then, holding up her fingers about an inch apart. “Just a little. It’s exhausting.”

Kara blinked at her, for the first time in a long time not knowing what to say. That did not sound like the queen she had come to know and serve. “Is there something I should know?” she asked. “First lash marks and now a split lip?”

This was getting dangerous and she needed to put a stop to it. “I do not need to explain myself to you, not further than I already have. Unless you want to be strung up and shock lashed, you’d better not question me. When I said to kiss my ass a little less I didn’t mean sew anarchy.”

Kara was confused, which she didn’t deal well with, but she offered a terse nod anyway. “Of course, _Blodreina_.” She went to leave and stopped in the doorway, turning to face Octavia again. “You… know it’s because I’m trying to protect you, right?” she asked hesitantly. “To make sure you stay on the throne?”

“I’m not trying to accuse you of taking personal interest if that’s what you’re worried about,” Octavia said dismissively.

“No, that didn’t cross my mind,” Kara shook her head. “I just wanted to make it clear that my protectiveness is meant to keep you in power, not to be petty or controlling. I take my job very seriously. We may be out of the bunker but there’s a new threat with that colonel and her gang of cutthroats.”

“You take your job more seriously than anyone I have ever met,” Octavia acknowledged. “And you are very good at your job. You just continue to be protective and I’ll continue to provoke you.”

That got a hint of a smile and Kara nodded, slipping out the door.

\--

Raven stayed the night in the warehouse, not up for the long walk back to camp after she’d inflamed the hell out of her leg. She dreamt of smooth skin and raised welts and dark eyes. Beyond that she couldn’t remember anything else; the content of the dream escaped her in the cold light of day.

She couldn’t stay at the warehouse forever. She was hungry and she hadn’t brought any food. So she slung the pack over her shoulder and started back to camp the next morning.

By the time she reached the outskirts she was limping heavier than usual and grunting in pain every other step. She hid in the trees for about an hour and picked a few berries so she’d have a plausible activity to be returning from. No one needed to know she’d been out all night. It was none of their damn business.

“Hey,” she greeted Echo when the spy passed her on her way to her tent. “Berry?”

“Thanks,” Echo replied, taking a small handful and popping one in her mouth as she continued on her way, most likely to Bellamy’s tent.

Raven slipped through the flap of her own tent and nearly had a heart attack to see Clarke perched on her cot looking smug. “What the fuck!”

“You’re getting laid, aren’t you?”

“What?!”

“Out all night, suddenly less angsty than usual… you’re totally getting laid.”

She opened her mouth to deny it but quickly realized that if Clarke thought she was meeting someone for sex, that was a good thing. “Yeah, fine, I—wait up, angsty?”

Clarke called on an innocent expression as if to deny she’d used the word. Then it vanished and she just looked excited. “So who is it?”

“Who is what?” Raven asked, already forgetting what they were talking about. Her mind was on other things.

“Who are you fucking?” Clarke asked impatiently.

Well that presented a problem. Unless… “one of those Eligius guys.”

“One of Diyoza’s guys? What the hell?”

“It’s not love, Clarke. It’s sex.”

She looked about to argue but then just smirked. “All right, Reyes. Way to go.”

\--

Octavia stared at the petitioners in front of her, a blank expression in her eyes. “Are you honestly bothering me over a woman? Wasting my time because you’re both hard for the same girl? You’ll be lucky if I don’t decide to behead you for stupidity. My decree is that you both fuck her at the same time and let her decide which one of you is better. Get out of my sight.”

They scurried out of the bunker while Kara tried not to laugh. Since when did _Blodreina_ say things that made her want to laugh? Something was going on. “That was funny,” she said, side-eyeing the queen. “You’re never funny. What am I missing?”

“I don’t know, maybe your place?” Octavia said, turning on her with a half amused, half irritated snort. “Your unflinching devotion? Your unquestioning loyalty?”

“I am not missing my loyalty or my devotion,” Kara replied quickly. “Maybe my place,” she added with a sigh. “I don’t like being kept in the dark. It makes my job harder.”

“You don’t need to know everything, Cooper. The things you do need to know, I’ll tell you.”

Jealousy twisted the pit of her stomach and rattled her bones that there might be something about her queen that she wasn’t aware of. She was _Blodreina_’s right hand, the trusted confidante, the enforcer, the fixer, the militia. She needed to know _every_thing. “I do need to know everything,” she protested, though not with any disrespect. “In order to be able to counter _any_thing, I need to know everything.”

Octavia got off her throne and wound a hand in Kara’s hair, eyes blazing with indignation. “You are very close to a line, Cooper,” she whispered.

Kara’s heart started racing, her eyes widening as she looked into her queen’s fiery ones. _Blodreina_ never touched her like this. Not that she was complaining, but it just further cemented the feeling in her gut that something was off. She obviously wasn’t going to get anything directly, so she’d have to back off and look into the matter more discretely. “Apologies, _Blodreina_,” she barely breathed.

Two nights with Raven and she already missed being called Octavia. She released Cooper’s hair with a nod. “Go find something useful to do.”

Kara returned the nod and walked slowly out of the bunker. She made arrangements for two sentries to take turns staying awake at all hours and left them both standing orders to rouse her if the queen left the bunker, no matter what time.

\--

As the days and nights passed with no visit from Octavia, Raven started to become more agitated than usual. Angsty, Clarke called it. After a particularly nasty go round with Murphy, her friend sought her out in her tent, where she had retreated to brood.

“Things off with Eligius boy?” Clarke asked, peeking her head into Raven’s tent before slipping inside.

“What?” Raven asked, having completely disregarded thoughts of that lie the moment she and Clarke had parted ways those three or four days ago. “Oh. Right. Yeah.”

“Sorry,” the blonde said, shoving her hands in her pockets and scuffing the toe of her boot in the dirt. “That sucks.”

“It’s fine,” Raven waved her off. “He was a temporary distraction at best.”

“Well what happened?”

Oh, great. Now she had to invent another pile of bullshit to remember. “He was a no show. Good riddance.”

“You didn’t even talk to him about it? Maybe he couldn’t get away or something.”

“Clarke, I don’t give a fuck, okay?” Raven finally snapped, throwing the radio she’d been trying to fix earlier across the tent with a grunt.

Clarke wasn’t stupid, and she knew her friend like the back of her hand. “There was no Eligius boy, was there?”

“No,” Raven admitted, crawling out of her skin too much to care about maintaining the lie at this point. Plus, Clarke knew her too well. “But I can’t tell you anything because it’s not mine to tell.”

Clarke thought carefully about what she wanted to say to that. “Whoever’s story it is, I hope they find their way back to you, because it was pretty nice to see my friend a tiny bit happy.”

Raven hated Clarke for that as much as she loved her for it. “You’re a good friend, Clarke. You should stay away from me. I’m a walking disaster and sooner or later you’ll get swept up in the shit storm.”

Clarke pretended to click on a walkie talkie. “_Wanheda_ to Raven… _Wanheda_ to Raven… every single person on this Earth is a walking disaster. There is no stone unturned by the plethora of shit storms our lives have become.”

Raven looked at Clarke for a minute, trying not to let that make her feel better, but it was useless and she finally smirked, giving Clarke a nod.

\--

Octavia was trying not to need anything from anyone, Raven included, but she was getting restless. She broke someone’s fingers the other day because she didn’t like the way they were chewing their food. She stabbed someone in the femoral artery and let them bleed out because they weren’t training hard enough. She thought that was yesterday but it was a blur. And right at the moment she was being forced into the bath by Cooper because she was covered in the blood of someone whose throat she’d torn out with her teeth. She was so wound up and angry that she didn’t even remember why she’d done it, and it was less than a half hour ago.

She no longer cared about being naked in front of anyone; Raven had ripped the bandage off of that wound so there was no point preserving her modesty anymore. She sat in the bath, seething, grinding her teeth, the taste of iron pervading her senses and reminding her of the way the door in the warehouse smelled.

Kara had dismissed the other guards before stripping _Blodreina_ and putting her in the bath. She had been surprised not to be woken in the middle of the night, sure that she had been right and that the queen had been leaving the bunker, but maybe this change in behavior had something to do with that. Maybe she had been leaving, and the fact that she was now staying home every night was the reason she was killing people with less provocation than usual. And she had never, ever bitten anyone before, let alone torn out anyone’s throat with her teeth.

Octavia sat back and stared at the ceiling while she let Kara wash her. She knew there was blood all over her face, and when Kara’s hand came up to wipe it off she got soap in her mouth and pulled a face, spitting into the frothy, half red water.

Kara observed for a few seconds, struck by how young _Blodreina_ looked when she made that disgusted face and started spitting out soap. Almost like she was a little girl again, being forced to eat her vegetables. She shook her head to clear the random thoughts and rinsed her hands in the basin next to the tub before returning them to _Blodreina_’s face, cleaning the rest of the blood there without using soap. She froze when the queen’s hand closed around her wrist, their eyes locking for an interminable moment.

Octavia slowly guided Kara’s hand to her throat and let go, wanting to see what her second would do. This gesture could be interpreted in two different ways, and confusing Cooper always made her feel good.

Kara’s heart skipped and her fingers twitched, knowing that whichever way she interpreted this would likely be wrong and get her strung up. It was highly unlikely that _Blodreina_ wanted her to do anything other than utilitarian cleansing. But if so, why the throat? It was obviously some sort of test with two possible answers, but Kara had never been good at tests, so she created her own answer. A third option that would combine the others and hopefully appease whatever wicked sense of mischief the queen was entertaining. She dipped her hand in the soapy water, then faster than lightning, before the queen could react, it was back on a pale throat, stroking up and down to remove the streaks of blood drying there, every stroke becoming more and more firm until she drew a gasp from _Blodreina_.

“Well played,” Octavia acknowledged, grabbing Cooper’s wrist again and dragging her hand under the water; between her legs. “Question number two. What are you going to do _here_?” Again, she let go.

Kara was thrown for an absolute loop. So many times she had been less than subtle in her offers to relieve _Blodreina_’s stress in a purely intimate manner, and always she had been rebuked. So why was this happening now? Why like this? What the actual fuck was going on inside her queen’s head? She gave a tentative stroke of one finger through folds made slick by the water, but clearly unaroused.

Octavia didn’t want tentative. She wanted forceful. She wanted savage. She wanted… Raven. Kara was fierce and beautiful, but she was too afraid of displeasing her queen to really do what Octavia needed. And Octavia could never ask her to. If Kara didn’t figure it out on her own and go for it, Octavia could not risk trying to guide her.

“You don’t really want me to do this,” Kara said, gently removing her hand from between _Blodreina_’s thighs and then from the water altogether. “You’re not turned on and this doesn’t make any sense. We should get you cleaned and dried off for the pyre lighting.”

“I’m not going,” Octavia said casually.

Kara blinked, now more alarmed than ever. “_Blodreina_… with all due respect, you have to go. If you don’t attend, you’ll lose support. Anyone who knew Arlana will turn against you. Especially since you’re the one who killed her.”

Octavia snarled, but her heart wasn’t in it. She knew Cooper was right. “Fine.”

\--

Octavia knew she was going to end up killing everyone that served her if she didn’t do something for release. She had given it her best effort, to go without the escape Raven provided her, both because she didn’t want to need anyone and because she wanted to spare Raven the depravity of it all, but she had failed. She was weak.

At the last second she remembered her gauntlets and slipped them on, leaving the ties loose because she wasn’t about to go wake up Cooper and ask her to tighten them.

\--

Raven sat up the instant her tent flap moved, on high alert. She had barely slept in the last few days, having nothing to do with her pent up energy aside from spar with Clarke. But sparring always meant she had to hold back. No one was meant to be seriously injured in a spar. “It’s been over a week,” she said accusingly.

“Who’s counting?” Octavia asked, eyebrows lifting.

“I hear you’ve been a real terror,” Raven changed the subject. “Maiming and murdering for no obvious reasons.”

“You could have come to get me, too,” Octavia said, a lacking defense, but true.

Raven barked out a laugh. “In what world am I marching into your heavily fortified bunker, demanding an audience with you, and then being chased down by Indra and Cooper when we suddenly leave together?”

Octavia’s expression soured. “Are we going or not?”

“You’ve made me wait more than a week and now you’re gonna barge in here and get impatient?” Raven asked. “Settle the fuck down. We’ll go when I’m ready to go.”

Octavia smirked. “I hear you’ve been a terror, too.”

“Shut your mouth before I slap it right here in the camp,” Raven said blandly, giving a yawn and a stretch.

“Ugh. Testy,” Octavia complained.

“Get my pack,” Raven finally said, getting to her feet. “Let’s go.”

\--

It took every shred of self-control Kara possessed not to barge in to Raven’s tent and arrest her for the way she was speaking to the queen. The only thing that stopped her was the knowledge that if she interrupted now she would never find out what was going on. So she stayed hidden in the shadows and waited. They were obviously planning to go somewhere. She could only hope it was somewhere she could keep to the tree line or be provided with some other type of cover.

She waited while Raven left the tent, and about ten minutes later _Blodreina_ followed. She counted in her head to make sure she left enough time between them not to be noticed, and as she crept out from behind a supply crate she literally ran right into someone. She slapped her hand over the other person’s mouth immediately, and when she realized it was Clarke she let go and backed off.

“What are you doing here?” Clarke leaned over and whispered into her ear.

“Following _Blodreina_,” Kara whispered back. “What are you doing?”

“Following Raven.”

No more words needed to be exchanged between them and they nodded at each other, taking to the trees. They were both predators either by experience or design, and they were silent.

\--

Raven fished out her key and unlocked the door, but before pushing it open she put a hand on Octavia’s chest to stop her forward momentum. “What I said last time about Lincoln… it was too much. I took it too far because I was pissed at you for telling me no, so I made up a bunch of shit to get under your skin. He didn’t leave you, he honored you.” And before either of them could get sappy about it, she shoved open the door. “I made something.”

Octavia felt like she couldn’t breathe, standing outside the warehouse after Raven went inside, running a shaky hand over her face. How could Raven say that so casually and then just move on? Fuck.

“Hey,” Raven said impatiently, poking her head back out the door. “Get your fucking ass in here. You can process it later. Right now, compartmentalize.”

Octavia forced out an exhale and shook her head at herself, but followed Raven into the building. “What did you make?”

Raven smirked and rummaged through the pack that Octavia was carrying for her until she came up with a solid wood paddle. She watched Octavia’s eyes widen as it came into view. “If you’re good I’ll warm your ass until you can’t sit down comfortably.”

“And if I’m not?” Eyebrows went up.

“Then I’ll warm your ass until you can’t sit down at all.”

Octavia stood there staring as a shiver tore through her, finally closing her eyes in acceptance of the fact that the idea turned her on to an intense degree. Her thighs clenched and her stomach pulsed a wave of heat down between her legs. “Not sure you’re strong enough for that last one…”

“So you’re choosing option two. Good to know,” Raven said, setting the paddle on a table behind her and backhanding Octavia in swift retribution.

\--

Clarke put a hand over Cooper’s mouth to keep her from reacting to that. They were up on the roof peering through a dirty window and a gasp likely wouldn’t be heard, but Clarke wasn’t willing to take that chance.

\--

Octavia worked her jaw, appreciating the punishment, and said nothing else at the moment to antagonize the mechanic.

Raven snickered and shook her head. “Fucking manipulator. Get your clothes off.”

A smirk tugged at one corner of Octavia’s mouth even though the movement made it throb a little, and she stripped out of her clothes and boots, tossing them all aside, then dropping her gauntlets on top of the pile. “I hope you can live up to your promise because I’ve been crawling out of my skin,” she then said seriously, the smirk gone without a trace.

Raven didn’t want to admit that she had been too, but they both already knew that about each other so she nodded. “Same here. Bend over the table, little queen.”

Octavia snorted at the title. “Don’t even.”

Raven slapped her upside the back of the head and forced her down. “Grab the other side and hold on.”

Octavia let out a slow breath and reached across the table, curling her fingers around the opposite edge. The old, rough wood was uncomfortable on her bare skin, especially if she moved, so she tried to hold still despite the anticipation. Never having been paddled before, she wasn’t quite sure what to expect.

Raven picked up the paddle and tapped it against her palm a few times before moving behind Octavia and just off to the side.

\--

Kara moved away from the window, heart wrenching. “She’s not really going to do that, is she?” she whispered.

Octavia’s shout from below answered her question and she squeezed her eyes shut as if to ward off reality.

\--

Raven brought the paddle down across the middle of Octavia’s ass, the girl’s pained shout making her teeth clench… along with her thighs.

Octavia had never felt anything like it before. It was so fundamentally different than any type of sparring or battle hit. The noise that left her was mostly out of surprise, to be honest, though it really did fucking hurt.

The second one hurt worse and she dug her fingers into the wood, crying out a little less emphatically as flames licked her skin. Holy Jesus. She needed more. “Please…”

“Are you asking me to stop already? Shut your mouth,” Raven snapped.

“No,” Octavia assured her quickly. “Asking for more… _Azheda_, please…”

“I said shut your mouth,” Raven repeated, reaching forward to give a tug on dark, messy locks. She straightened up and let go, just standing there doing nothing, watching Octavia fall apart.

She forced herself to breathe evenly, trying to keep her focus away from how badly she wanted Raven to up her game. But when nothing happened she lost her resolve, squirming over the table and pounding a fist so hard that the wood under her cheek splintered.

Raven laughed and waited until she grabbed the table again like she was told to do; waited until she stopped squirming, and then laid into her. The paddle fell again and again, not stopping in between blows, not stopping when Octavia’s ass started turning bright red, not stopping when she heard the first sounds of a breakdown.

Octavia almost sobbed with relief when Raven started up again, but her gratitude slowly turned to uncertainty the longer it went on, the hotter her skin blazed, the fact that she could feel bruises forming because she knew what it felt like to be hit over a bruise, and every time the paddle fell now, she let out a cry that was all pain and no surprise. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, worse than anything she could remember other than the stab wound through her side from Echo. It hurt so much she wasn’t sure how long she could stand it. She knew she was whimpering but she didn’t care. Tears soaked her face and dripped onto the splintered wood beneath her, some continuing down to the floor.

Raven knew Octavia was crying, but she knew they both needed this, and just like the first time they had come here, she had been tasked with something specific and she wasn’t going to let Octavia down just because the girl was crying. She would make it impossible to sit.

Octavia endured it for as long as she possibly could, and she choked on her pride as she finally screamed and begged for Raven to stop, her tears turning to wracking sobs. “Raven, no, please, no more, I can’t!”

Raven was shocked to hear that, and even more shocked at herself when she set the paddle down instantly without a second thought. Something had changed, because if this had been day one, she wouldn’t have cared. She wouldn’t have been moved in any way by the tears of a savage. But she was. And despite how desperately she wanted to cling to the façade that nothing had changed or would ever change, down in her core, she knew. “_Strikgada_,” she whispered, barely able to speak past the lump in her throat. “Okay.”

Octavia hadn’t known whether Raven would stop or not. Part of her was terrified that her plea had been honored, and part of her was broken by it. Shattered, even. Because it meant that Raven didn’t truly hate her anymore, and she had no idea what to do with that. Maybe in her dreams she had fantasized about this moment, but now that it had come, she was lost.

\--

Kara turned away again, a hand over her mouth as she shook her head. “I can’t, Clarke. I can’t.”

Clarke was feeling basically the same and relieved that Kara had broken first. “Let’s go,” she whispered.

They climbed down the trellis at the far end of the building and dropped silently down to the ground, walking in awkward silence back to the cover of the trees.

“You’re not—are you going to—”

Kara straightened up and shook her head. “My loyalty is unconditional.”

Clarke didn’t know why. Maybe because Octavia had had the chance to kill her and had given her another chance instead. She didn’t feel the need to ask. “My lips are sealed too.”

\--

Raven’s hand shook considerably as she laid it on Octavia’s back. “What the fuck do we do now?” she asked in between the girl’s sobs.

Octavia wasn’t sure whether she took comfort from Raven’s hand on her back or thought she didn’t deserve it and wanted it gone. The fire in her ass was too all consuming to let her sort through other thoughts with any amount of clarity. She barely heard the words and had no idea. “I don’t know!” she sobbed, clinging to the table like a raft in a violent storm.

Raven rubbed her back and tried to sort her thoughts out, finally sitting on the table’s bench next to Octavia’s head. “Please stop crying,” she whispered. She ran her fingers through the girl’s hair and kissed the side of her face. “Please,” she asked again, not sure she could take it. “Please, don’t cry…”

It still took Octavia a long time to calm down, even with Raven begging her to stop crying and rubbing her back and kissing her face. Maybe that made it take longer, she wasn’t sure. But finally, after what felt like hours, her sobs quieted to sniffles. “I have—I have to go. I have to go,” she said, but made no move to get up.

“Are you under the impression that you’re the only one completely fucking freaking out?” Raven asked quietly. “Because you’re not. I never wanted things to change, Octavia. They were—they were great. Perfect, even.”

Well that she knew was bullshit. “They weren’t,” she argued, though her voice lacked any real conviction. “We were using each other.”

“Aren’t we still? I need us to still be using each other.”

Octavia wiped her eyes with one hand and sniffled. “Okay. We’re still using each other,” she said. “But we should stop. We should stay away from each other.” She tried not to let her voice catch at that, but it was inevitable because her heart was strangling itself in her chest.

It was the last thing Raven wanted and the thing she wanted most at the same time. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Can you get up?”

Octavia slowly pushed herself up off the table and her knees gave out, sending her down to them with a cry.

Raven was there in an instant, obliterating any notion that they were trying to hold onto about not really giving a fuck about each other. “I’ve got you,” she said without thinking, sliding her arms under Octavia’s and lifting her to her feet, holding her up while she got oriented.

“No!” Octavia said, fighting the hold, pushing away from Raven and ending up crawling over to her clothes.

Raven watched helplessly as Octavia got dressed, struggling with and screaming at her pants while she pulled them up, swiping at fresh tears as she shoved her feet into her boots, not bothering to attempt leaning over to lace them.

Octavia left the gauntlets behind with a parting glance as she reached the door. “A souvenir,” she said bitterly. “Proof that you utterly and completely broke me.” Half of her wished Raven would stop her from leaving. Maybe more than half. Maybe she wished it with every fiber of her being. But Raven said nothing, just stood there with an unreadable expression, and Octavia left.

\--

Raven had almost called out to her; almost chased her to the door and dragged her back inside by the hair; almost forbid her from leaving. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. She had never had any kind of processing delay before, but the wheels just wouldn’t turn properly and she couldn’t make sense of anything. How could she stop Octavia from leaving when she didn’t even know left from right, up from down?

She sank absently onto the bench again and feathered her fingers over the piece of wood Octavia had splintered, catching a sliver. She stared down at it, carefully sliding it out of her finger, and just sat there watching a speck of blood turn into a tiny bubble. Then she cried.


	4. Chapter 4

It took Octavia twice as long to walk back this time because she was in so much pain, and every step she took made it worse. She was exhausted when she finally climbed into the bunker and trudged to her quarters. No one pacing outside, that was a good sign.

But as she pushed the doors open and stepped inside, she froze to see Cooper sitting on the edge of her bed. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she asked, forcing anger into her tone when all she really felt was drained. When Kara looked up with tears in her eyes, the part of Octavia’s world that had still been normal flipped itself upside down. Cooper? Crying? Jesus Christ. She slammed the doors and her brows furrowed in political concern. “What happened? An attack? Who died?”

“No,” Kara said, blinking away the water threatening to spill out. “Nothing like that.”

“Then spit it out! I’m fucking exhausted and I’d like my room to myself.”

“You don’t trust me.”

Something uneasy settled in the pit of her stomach and she tried to brush it off. “You’re crying because you think I don’t trust you? Don’t waste my time. Of course I trust you. Even if I didn’t it’s nothing to cry over.”

Kara had been going over and over last night in her head, and everything had finally made sense. Her hand on _Blodreina_’s throat; between her legs. It was her queen’s way of trying to let her in without making herself vulnerable. But the bitter taste in her mouth wouldn’t leave because it still meant _Blodreina_ didn’t really, truly trust her, and that hurt more than death by a thousand cuts for a soldier like her. Ever since that day in the arena, Octavia had been her life. Her one focus; her purpose. Keeping the throne safe and intact had consumed her every waking moment and even pervaded her dreams. She had never felt more alive, more important, than the moment she had been appointed to the queen’s side. It was like her entire reason for being was now on shaky ground. “I would have done that for you,” she said, her voice less than a whisper. “If you had asked me. I would have helped you.”

That uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach lurched up and made her almost vomit. “What are you talking about?”

“The lashes. The split lip. The…” she wasn’t sure what to call this morning. “…spanking. I would have done any of it if I knew.”

Octavia’s face turned bright red despite the panic that should have been much stronger than embarrassment. “Who have you told? Has Indra decided on a replacement? Who’s going to slip in here while I’m unguarded and slit my throat in my sleep?”

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to tell you,” Kara said, her voice still soft. “I have told no one. I will tell no one. I feel like I can’t take another breath until you know you can trust me.” She got up off the bed and hesitantly approached the queen. “Last night… I would have choked you… I would have fucked you as hard as you needed, if only I’d understood. You view your needs as a weakness unbefitting a queen. Something to be scorned; a reason to remove you from power. They’re not. They’re just a part of you. Protecting and serving you is my life, whatever form that takes, and you can’t imagine the pain I felt when I found out you were hiding this whole other side of yourself from me because you thought I would betray you.”

Octavia was stunned speechless, the dread in her stomach transforming into something softer. She tried to find her voice and failed, her lower lip trembling as she stood staring at her second. Finally she made her mouth work even if her words were only a wisp of sound. “Kara… I had no idea.” The urge to apologize struck her but she couldn’t quite do it.

Kara blinked. “That’s the first time you’ve ever called me Kara.”

“It’s the first time we’ve ever talked to each other like actual people,” Octavia replied, her voice gaining a bit of strength. And then something occurred to her. “Raven told you what happened?”

“No,” Kara said, not wanting to confess but not wanting the queen to be wrongfully angry with Raven. “I was worried, so I—”

“You followed me.” Octavia sighed. “I should string you up.”

“What if you just let me take care of you instead? I know you’re in more pain than most people could stand…”

Octavia ran her hands over her face. “What could you possibly do for this?” She gestured vaguely in the direction of her lower half.

“There has to be something. Let me at least have a look and see if you’re bleeding.”

Octavia sighed again and kicked off her boots, wincing and holding in a grunt of pain as she pushed her pants down and stepped out of them. She crawled onto the bed and laid on her stomach, resting her head on her arms.

Kara gasped, a hand going to her mouth. “Fuck,” she breathed a few seconds later. “_Blodreina_, you’re—”

“Kara please. I—when we—”

“Octavia,” Kara said, knowing what was about to come and not wanting to make her queen ask for something so simple yet probably humiliating. “You’re black and blue.”

“I figured. I don’t think there’s anything to be done about it.”

“Some of your skin is broken.”

“You can put some of that red seaweed cream on, then, or whatever that stuff is.”

“I’ll try not to seem too happy about getting to touch your ass.”

Octavia’s head turned sharply, her eyebrows raised. “I think that’s the first joke you have ever made.”

“I’ve never been this nervous,” Kara replied. “I didn’t think you would actually let me take care of you.” She disappeared into the adjoining washroom and came back with the jar of healing salve, sitting on the bed beside her queen.

That got a little smirk from Octavia and she settled her head back down. She might have still been heartbroken, but finding out Cooper was really this loyal and wouldn’t betray her helped ease the sting, at least marginally.

“My apologies in advance, _Bl_—Octavia,” Kara said as she dipped one finger in the jar and coated it with salve, then took a slow breath before tracing along one of the patches of broken skin so lightly she wasn’t sure if she was actually touching her queen. Well, she wasn’t sure until Octavia hissed and pressed her face into the mattress, white knuckling the sheets. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, hesitant to continue but knowing it would help in the long run. She got more of the salve on her finger and finished applying it to the few places the skin had broken, then capped the jar and wiped the remnants of the greasy medicine on her pants.

Octavia saw the action and tried to distract herself thinking about it. “Please, Cooper, were you born in a barn?”

Kara smirked and set the jar on the nightstand. “There are no towels in here.”

“And the washroom ten feet away? No towels in there either?”

“I was too lazy to go check, of course,” Kara hummed.

“Aren’t you going to ask what’s wrong with me? Why I would let her do this?” Octavia blurted out suddenly.

Kara sighed and climbed carefully over her queen to stretch out on the bed beside her, folding her hands beneath her head and staring at the ceiling. “I had this boyfriend on the ark,” she said after a slight pause. “He said he wanted me to tie him up.” She looked over at Octavia, who had turned her head to face her. “I didn’t understand why he would want that. I told him no, that I couldn’t do that, it was strange and what if I did it wrong and cut off his circulation, blah, blah, blah.” She turned back to the ceiling. “When I finally gave in… the moment I took control of his ability to move…”

Octavia watched as a shudder rippled through the other woman, waiting for her to continue.

“The way I felt controlling him like that is the way I imagine you feel being controlled. They’re opposite sides of the same coin, I think. There’s nothing wrong with you, Octavia.” She scooted about a foot away before adding, “well, not for this.”

Octavia almost laughed, and reached out a hand to smack Kara’s shoulder. She could barely reach, but she got a good clip in. “Go fuck yourself, Cooper.”

“As soon as my head hits my pillow,” Kara retorted. “So when are you seeing her again?”

Octavia’s good mood vanished and she turned her head away. “I’m not.”

“What?” Kara almost shrieked. “Jesus Lord, why not?”

That reaction was enough to make Octavia look at her again. “Why do you sound so… horrified?”

“Because you’re good for each other,” Kara explained.

“No we’re not, we bring out the absolute worst in each other,” Octavia argued.

“I saw you together… I wouldn’t say the worst is what you bring out in each other,” Cooper argued back. “You’re… I don’t know how to describe it… easy together, maybe. It seemed like you fit perfectly. Opposite sides of the same coin, remember?”

“How long were you there?”

“I left after you asked her to stop spanking you. I wasn’t trying to get a thrill, I was trying to understand what you were hiding from me. I watched as long as I could, but when it seemed like it was too much for you, I had to leave or I would have dropped down through the roof and strangled her.”

“So you missed the part where she was nice to me and I flipped my shit, ended things and ran away.”

“I think I ended things with that boyfriend on the ark at least three times,” Kara said with a dismissive wave. “Raven might be full of tortured anger, but I could hear the light in her voice when you were talking in her tent. I don’t think she wants things to end.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t want anything to do with such a fucking coward,” Octavia said with a frown, turning away yet again.

“Don’t talk about the queen like that or she’ll have you strung up and shock lashed,” Cooper said, sneaking a foot over to nudge Octavia’s ankle.

“Do I really even deserve to be queen?” Octavia muttered. “I literally tore someone’s throat out yesterday.”

“Let that be a lesson to you, then,” Kara offered. “Don’t try to suppress your needs. But yes, you absolutely deserve to be queen. If I didn’t believe in you I wouldn’t be so serious about my job. Just… try not to kill anyone else without a plausible reason, please. That shit show was really hard to manage. I was doing damage control out my ass. There are a few people I’m still not sure about and I’ve had to assign them twenty-four-hour surveillance details.”

Octavia groaned. Again an apology was on the tip of her tongue but she couldn’t force it past her lips. “Copy that.”  
  
“Okay, I’m gonna pull down a cot and sleep in here since you’re indisposed.”

“Hey. I could have a _broken_ ass and I’d still get up if I had to,” Octavia protested, but the idea of company wasn’t actually that unwelcome. “Don’t masturbate, then.”

Kara dropped the cot she was lowering and it sprang back against the wall. She snorted softly to herself and pulled it down, securing it with the appropriate latches. “Yeah, you either.” She climbed onto the cot and stretched out on her side, closing her eyes with a content sigh. She was almost asleep when the queen spoke.

“I miss her.”

Kara pursed her lips in thought, not wanting to jump in the deep end with a hasty response, and then said what had first sprung to mind anyway. “Ten thousand to one she misses you too.”

\--

Clarke had no way of knowing how things had gone between Raven and Octavia after she’d left. So when Raven body slammed Murphy at breakfast, it came as a surprise. “Heyyy,” she said, quickly stepping between them before Murphy could return fire. “Let’s go,” she addressed Raven, nodding in the direction of the sparring ring.

An hour later they were both bruised and bloody, collapsed on their backs in the dirt, panting for breath. Raven still felt loss and grief and rage coiling inside her, waiting to strike, even if she was too spent to lift a finger at the moment.

“From now on, instead of picking on Murphy, you come find me,” Clarke said several minutes later. “He’s actually been pretty cool lately and I don’t want you to fuck that up.”

“Fuck Murphy and fuck you,” Raven spat, wiping blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, getting to her feet despite the nagging ache in her body and stalking off.

Clarke groaned. Maybe Cooper knew more.

\--

“What are you doing here?” Kara asked, raising an eyebrow and setting down her sketchbook, drawing one knee up to rest her forearms on it.

Clarke sat down beside her and leaned against the tree she was using for shade. “Do you know something I don’t? I figured Raven would’ve been more relaxed after this morning but… well… I’m sure my face tells you she isn’t. She looks just as bad, but after going rounds for an hour she was still wound sky high.” She surreptitiously tried to get a look at Cooper’s drawing but she couldn’t see it without being obvious so she gave up with a sulk.

Kara sighed, leaning her head back against the tree. “I’m not sure entirely what happened, but I guess Raven was gentle with her after that… you know,” she waved a hand in front of her before continuing, “and she freaked out, ended things and ran.”

Clarke hid her face in her hands and let out a tortured noise of complaint. “Raven is not taking it well.”

“The queen misses her,” Kara said after some hesitation. “She said so herself. She didn’t want things to end, she just panicked.”

Clarke nodded and finally uncovered her face. “I’ll try to talk to Raven. If you never see me again, you know why.”

Kara smirked. “I’m sure she won’t kill you. Maim you, maybe. Good luck.”

“Just in case this is my last day on Earth, can I see your sketches?”

Kara snorted and handed over the book. “Don’t hold your breath. I know you’re an artist; these won’t compare.”

Clarke glanced over the page and her jaw dropped. “The fuck they don’t,” she said quietly, flipping the page. Cooper had an eye for detail and a gift for drawing textures. She flipped the page again and ran her fingers lightly over an apple. It was a table spread for a festival of some sort, and even in black and white the items jumped off the page. “I literally want to eat that apple,” she said when she handed back the book. “For someone so hard, you capture still life in the softest way…”

Kara didn’t know what to say, wholly unprepared for the praise, especially from an artist. To her utter embarrassment she found herself blushing. “I wasn’t always so hard.”

“I like to think I wasn’t either, but sometimes I don’t know,” Clarke said thoughtfully, then shook her head and got to her feet. “Thanks for sharing. The information and the sketches.” And then she was gone.

Kara watched her walk away with a frown, now forced to think about whether she had maybe always been this hard, too.

\--

“Raven?” Clarke called, peeking her head into Raven’s tent. “Rave?” No Raven. She tried the latrine, but no luck there, or in the dining area. “Hey,” she said when she saw Echo. “Have you seen Raven?”

“I think she’s still in the sparring ring,” Echo replied. “She headed out there about a half hour ago with a whole bunch of guys.”

“And nobody thought to stop her?” Clarke asked, eyes widening as she gawked at Echo.

“What for? It’s not against camp policy to have co-ed sparring…”

“Echo, she’s probably going to take them all on at once to punish herself,” Clarke said, worry seeping into her bones.

“Shit,” Echo realized, turning on her heels and heading away from camp with Clarke.

Before they even reached the clearing they could hear Raven’s voice, taunting her opponents in fractured trigedasleng.

Clarke ran the rest of the way and nearly fell over when she saw the scene in the clearing. Raven was on the ground, still spewing taunts while five or six grounders were kicking the shit out of her. Without even thinking Clarke drew her weapon and fired it into the nearest tree. “Get the fuck off of her!”

They all turned to face her at once, looking uneasy. “_Wanheda_, she said she wanted to—”

Clarke leveled the gun at him and cocked the hammer. “Get. The fuck. Off of her.”

“Go away, Clarke,” Raven groaned, rolling onto her side, dirt sticking to the blood wherever a wound touched the ground.

The grounders didn’t want to tangle with an angry commander of death even if it had been two years since she got that title. They muttered apologies as they all dispersed, leaving Raven with Echo and Clarke.

“You’re so fucking _boring_, Clarke,” Raven complained.

“Shut the fuck up,” Clarke said, tucking her gun in her waistband as she and Echo carefully hauled Raven to her feet and started the short walk back to camp.

\--

Abby gasped as she turned around and saw Raven in her doorway, held up by Clarke and Echo. “Oh my God,” she said, swiping everything off the nearest cot, uncaring of where any of it landed.

Clarke and Echo laid Raven down, who was hovering on the verge of consciousness already. Once she was on her back she seemed to give up the fight and passed out.

“What is this?” Abby asked, pulling on a pair of gloves and getting to work assessing the damage.

“This is Raven’s way of punishing herself,” Clarke said bitterly. “Thanks, Echo.”

“I’ll come check on her later,” Echo said with a nod, slipping out of the medical tent.

“She decided it would be a fantastic idea to take a bunch of grounders into the sparring ring. At the same time.”

“Why? What does she think she needs to be punished for? She hasn’t done anything wrong,” Abby said, her voice pained. “Ever.”

Clarke wasn’t about to reveal the reason, so she just shrugged. “You know how she is, Mom. I try to reach her but it’s hard.”

Abby nodded and kissed her daughter’s forehead, then prepared a rinse to start washing off some of the nastier cuts.

Clarke left the tent to let her concentrate, deciding to go visit Cooper again.

\--

Kara was on duty this time, keeping an eye on _Blodreina_ while she trained some of the younger kids in the use of small daggers. She blinked when she saw Clarke approaching for the second time in as many hours.

“You have got to get Octavia over there,” Clarke whispered, running a hand through her hair.

“You’re covered in blood. You didn’t want to take a shower before gracing me with your presence again?”

“I’m serious,” Clarke sighed. “There has to be something you can do.”

“Would you like to try your hand at forcing _Blodreina_ to do something?” Kara asked, one eyebrow sliding upward. “She’s right over there. Be my guest.”

“Cooper,” Clarke said in warning.

“I will state my opinion later, when the two of us are alone. Right now I am on duty and you are distracting me, which will never get you what you want.”

“Please just try,” Clarke made one last plea as she shoved her hands in her pockets and walked away. She should have known better than to try to talk to Kara Cooper while she was on the job. The woman bled professionalism. Her work ethic was downright obsessive. It would maybe be impressive if she wasn’t so annoyed with it at the moment.

Kara hadn’t looked away from _Blodreina_ even while being distracted by Clarke, and as the lesson ended and the queen approached her, she scanned for any potential threats.

“What did _Clarke_ want?” Octavia asked, almost spitting out the name.

Of course the queen had to notice, Kara thought with irritation at Clarke. She could lie, but what would that accomplish toward the goal she shared with the blonde? “She wanted me to overstep my bounds as your second and impress upon you a personal request.”

That was the last thing Octavia expected to hear, maybe besides ‘she said dragons have just taken over the camp’. “What request? What the hell could she possibly want from me, at least on a personal level?”

Kara took even breaths, praying _Blodreina_ wouldn’t just decide to gut her when she found out Clarke knew everything. “Apparently Raven is not taking things well. She would like you to make a visit—”

“She what?” Octavia snarled, flashing her teeth.

“I didn’t tell her anything, _Blodreina_, she was spying on Raven the night I followed you.”

“And you didn’t think that was worth mentioning?” Octavia practically shrieked.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Kara said honestly. “You had so much going on… I didn’t want you worried that Clarke would use it against you because I knew she wouldn’t.”

“You _knew_ she wouldn’t? How the fuck could you possibly know she w—wait, what do you mean Raven’s not taking things well?” The part of the message she’d overlooked in her brief panic came flooding back, crashing over her like a tidal wave. “What happened? What happened to Raven?”

“She didn’t say, but she was covered in blood,” Kara relayed, trying not to cringe at the unhinged look in Octavia’s eyes.

The panic abruptly shifted from fear for her throne to fear for Raven, all thoughts of danger to herself forgotten as the air rushed from her lungs. “We go,” she said resolutely, trying to push down the bile in her throat. “Now.”

Kara nearly sagged with relief at the way that conversation had ended up playing out, but nothing of her inner turmoil showed on her face or in her posture. To any onlooker it would seem nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

\--

Clarke had gone back to medical when she returned from the bunker area, and Abby was just finishing up with the wounds on Raven’s face. There were so many, it broke her heart. Her gaze wandered lower and she tilted her head when she saw the leather cuff securely around Raven’s right wrist. “Why is she restrained?”

“Because she woke up and tried to leave,” Abby replied, taking a pair of safety scissors and starting to cut Raven’s tank top up the middle. “I wish we had an X-ray or an MRI machine,” she said longingly. “Look at these bruises. We can only pray there’s no internal injuries.” She finished cutting the middle, then cut the sleeves so she could get the shirt off completely, tossing it in the waste bin. She left the bra for now while she set to work palpating Raven’s abdomen, trying to assess what she could tell about how deep the damage would go. Her touch was no replacement for an imaging study, but it was all they had.

Raven woke up at the first push on her tender stomach, trying to sit up, but realizing she was cuffed. “Nice, Abby,” she said, rolling her eyes and laying back down, rattling the chain attached to the cuff. She looked down, arching an eyebrow. “Did you seriously cut my favorite tank top off me?”

“I didn’t see any point in waking you and asking you to remove it,” Abby said gently.

“Don’t throw it away, I’ll sew it back together,” Raven said, almost pouting.

Clarke leaned over and plucked the pieces out of the waste bin. “I’ll hold onto it for you,” she offered.

“Oh, yay, my knight in shining armor,” Raven deadpanned. “The commander of taking away a person’s free will.” She winced at a particularly sore spot when Abby touched it, but was otherwise still.

“This was really stupid,” Abby said, shaking her head.

“You know what’s really stupid, Abby?” Raven asked, eyes narrowing. “Judging certain people for stealing our bone marrow, then turning around to do the same thing yourself, and still thinking you’re better than them.”

“I don’t think I’m better than anyone,” Abby said, her eyes watering at the harsh reminder.

“You do,” Raven insisted.

Clarke was about to step in on her mom’s behalf when she heard murmurs outside. Not daring to hope, she ducked out of the tent and just about ran over to hug Cooper when she saw the woman walking through camp with Octavia. She kept control of herself, however, and just waved them over since they would have no idea which tent was medical.

“Oh look, even Clarke thinks you’re—” Raven stopped talking; stopped breathing when a shadow fell over the tent flap and Octavia emerged through it. She used her free hand to yank a blanket over her chest despite Abby’s protests and attempts to prevent her from doing it.

“Mom,” Clarke said, tugging on her sleeve. “Come on.”

“What? I’m not leaving her alone with that—”

“Mom,” Clarke said more forcefully, dragging her mother toward the exit. “It’s not up for negotiation. Just trust me. Come on.”

Obviously Clarke knew something she didn’t, and while she didn’t like it, she complied, pointing a finger at Cooper on her way out. “You’d better make sure—” She stopped talking when she was unceremoniously jerked out of the tent.

“Mom. Stop. You have no idea what’s going on. I said to trust me.”

A few seconds later Kara joined them outside.

Octavia stared at Raven, her heart feeling all kinds of ways, and she took a few hesitant steps toward the cot, then a few more until she could reach out a finger and trail it tenderly over one of the cuts on Raven’s face. “These are because of me?” It was less of a question and more of a statement, and her chest heaved when Raven nodded.

“Yes. I mean no, not directly, but in a way. It’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault, for being a fucking coward,” Octavia said quietly, taking a knee on the floor level with Raven’s waist. She rested her elbows on the cot and folded her hands together, leaning her forehead down on them. “I wanted you to stop me.”

Raven tried twice to swallow before she succeeded, her throat was suddenly so dry. “I wanted to stop you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Maybe we’re both cowards.”

Octavia’s head lifted to look at her at that, not believing it could be that simple. “I’m supposed to be the one with cuts and bruises,” she finally whispered. “It doesn’t look good on you.” _Translation: you’re not supposed to be hurt_.

“It looks good on you,” Raven admitted, “but only if I’m the one who did it.”

“I haven’t been able to sit down since you paddled me,” Octavia breathed, the memory still fresh in her mind every time she moved. “I slept on my stomach.”

Raven shivered, her eyes threatening to roll back. “That is so ridiculously fucking hot,” she said through clenched teeth. “You have no business coming in here and saying something so hot while I’m laid up and can’t take advantage.”

Octavia could read the teasing in her tone but the guilt still gnawed at her belly and spilled out everywhere. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself because of me.”

“Then don’t walk away again.” Fuck, that was hard to say out loud.

Octavia’s breath caught, this thing between them hovering in the air, something spoken out loud; an admission they needed each other. So difficult for both of them. “If I try to walk away… don’t let me go,” she begged.

Raven blew out a slow breath and nodded. “I guess it’s a deal.”

“So Clarke and Cooper know everything,” Octavia ventured after a few minutes of semi-awkward silence.

“What?!” Raven shouted, her calm shattered. “You wanted secrecy so badly that we couldn’t even leave my tent at the same time and then you go and tell Cooper? And Clarke? What the fuck, Octavia?”

\--

Abby tried to rush back into the tent but Clarke grabbed her and Cooper stepped in front of the doorway, blocking the entrance.

“My patient is in distress!” Abby snapped.

“Your patient will be in even more distress if you interrupt them,” Clarke promised.

\--

“I didn’t tell them,” Octavia said, staring at her hands. “They followed us last night. This morning. Whatever.”

“They f—CLARKE!” Raven bellowed. “GET IN HERE.”

Clarke looked sheepish as she headed into the tent, Cooper moving aside for her with a hint of a smirk. “Yes?” she asked Raven sweetly.

“If I wasn’t chained to this cot I’d break your fucking face!” Raven yelled at her, though her words lacked conviction.

“Why are you chained to this cot, actually?” Octavia asked.

“Because she’s a terrible patient,” Abby said, having squeezed in after Clarke before Cooper could object. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I haven’t finished treating her, so if you would all kindly get the fuck out, I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

Octavia got to her feet, with a wince for Raven’s eyes only. “You tried to escape treatment?” she asked.

“I’ll behave,” Raven promised rather than answering the loaded question.

“OUT,” Abby said again, not caring whether she was talking to a two-year-old or the queen of the damned.

Octavia gave her a murderous look but grudgingly shuffled to the tent flap. “I’ll be right outside. You’d better be able to fix her…”

Clarke bodily ushered Octavia the rest of the way out of the tent before her mom could explode. “Don’t mess with her when she’s in doctor mode,” she whispered in case Octavia thought about retaliating for the body check. “It’s not good for anybody. Trust me.”

“Why haven’t you spread my dirty little secret around camp already?” Octavia asked once she shook off the indignity of being manhandled by her former friend.

Clarke eyed her for a minute before deciding on honesty. “Because I saw a difference in Raven after she spent those two nights with you. She hasn’t… she wasn’t… she was just different. Lighter, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it. But it was important to me, and it still is, that she has someone that can do that for her. No matter who it is. So if you think I’m going to let word get out and let some upstart think they’re gonna kill you in your sleep and take your throne, well, you can thank my friendship with Raven for keeping me from that.” She stopped, considered, then continued. “And… she… I see a difference in you, too. You’re not so far away anymore. You don’t look so dead inside. That’s important, too.”

Octavia’s brows furrowed as she tried to come up with a response to all of that, but nothing presented itself.

Cooper’s sarcasm to the rescue. “I don’t know if you heard her, but she said ‘thank you’,” Cooper said wryly.

Octavia and Clarke both snorted, which diffused the awkward tension that had settled between them, and Clarke kicked a little cloud of dirt at Cooper.

Kara watched as the dust settled on top of her recently-polished boots, her eyes slits as she slowly looked back up at Clarke. “Maybe you want to spit shine those? I just polished them before breakfast.”

Clarke hadn’t expected a response like that and she was temporarily speechless.

Octavia smirked. “Yeah, Clarke. I’m sure there’s a rag you can use in the tent.” She jerked her chin towards medical.

Clarke recovered her wits and crossed her arms over her chest. “Both of you, fuck off.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who have been commenting!!! :)

Once Abby had finished patching Raven up and Octavia was allowed inside the tent, she dismissed Cooper from duty. Not sure what to do with herself, Kara glanced over at Clarke. “Celebratory drink for the two best wingmen on the planet? Literally?”

“I shouldn’t drink. What if someone needs me?”

Kara’s eyebrows slowly rose. “And to think you call me a workaholic behind my back…”

Clarke made a little noise of protest even though that was absolutely true. “All right, fine. None of that moonshine, though. I want beer.”

“I’m pretty sure beer is an antiquity at this point,” Kara said logically.

“Actually, Murphy found some in that lighthouse, and thanks to the many alcoholics surrounding us, a trip was made recently to retrieve it.”

Kara’s mouth watered at the thought of it even though she figured it must be warm. “Beer it is, then.”

Clarke went off to get them a few beers while Kara started a fire in one of the fire pits. It would be dark soon, and they could use the heat as well as the light. She had just sat down in an old lawn chair when Clarke tossed her a can and she managed to catch it instead of being hit in the side of the head.

“Cheers,” Clarke said, choosing the bench of the picnic table to sit.

“Cheers,” Kara echoed, nodding and opening her beer, taking a long, appreciative swallow. “Fuck, that’s horrible, but so, so good.”

Clarke followed suit and had to agree. “Fucking awful, but perfect.”

Kara stretched out her legs and crossed them at the ankle, her eyes falling on a towel haphazardly laying behind Clarke on the bench. “Clarke,” she said, looking at the blonde.

Something in the tone of Cooper’s voice made Clarke look up from her beer. She wasn’t sure what it was, just that it was something. “Hm?”

Kara deliberately leaned her head to the side, eyes going from Clarke to the towel, and then pointedly to her boots.

Clarke followed along and gave a snort of disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking? You kicked dirt on my boots after I had just spent a half hour polishing them. I don’t enjoy performing tasks for no reason, nor do I enjoy looking like an unkempt slacker.”

Clarke set her beer down and grabbed the towel, leaning over to brush the dirt quickly from Cooper’s boots, barely managing to get a quarter of it off. “There. Debt repaid.”

“Is that the amount of effort you put into everything?” Kara asked, unimpressed. “Half-assing doesn’t seem your style.”

Clarke wasn’t sure why, but the thought of someone so perfect at her job thinking she didn’t take pride in her work, whatever that work may be, pricked at her. She went down on one knee in front of Cooper, then waited until the soldier placed her boot on the other knee. She raised an eyebrow, holding Cooper’s gaze as she spit on the towel, then started to slowly clean the remaining dirt from the otherwise pristine leather.

Kara remained unaffected as far as the eye could see, but her insides did a little flip at the way Clarke was looking at her. She shifted in her seat and took a swig of her beer, keeping an eye on the job Clarke was doing.

Clarke was much more thorough, the insane competitiveness she felt spurring her on. She cleaned every last drop of dust away and shook out the towel, then waited for the other boot.

Kara wasn’t quick about it. She lifted her right foot and set it on the ground, inspecting Clarke’s work before lifting her left and settling her boot on the girl’s knee.

Clarke ran the rag across the leather a few times before she spit on it again and started to shine. When she was satisfied that no trace of dirt remained, she tossed the rag aside.

Kara inspected the left boot, then lazily took a long drink of her beer. “Almost as good a job as I did this morning.”

“Almost?” Clarke found herself suddenly wanting Cooper’s approval. “They’re literally shining.”

Kara grinned, giving her a shrug and leaning back in the chair, finishing off her drink.

Clarke scowled and abruptly stood up, dislodging Cooper’s boot from her knee as she dusted off the other knee, the one that had been kneeling in the dirt. “What could you possibly have done that made them look better than that?” she asked, nodding toward the sparkling leather. She grabbed her own beer, peered into the can to make sure there were no bugs hovering, though it was hard to see in the firelight. She took a small sip and spit it out just in case, then took a normal swallow.

“I don’t know,” Kara said, pretending to consider. “They just seemed cleaner when I did it.” She was fucking with Clarke because she knew the blonde’s competitive streak had just flared to life. The boots looked no different than after she had polished them herself. But if she couldn’t mess around a little, what good was a celebratory drink?

“_Now_ you’re joking,” Clarke decided. “There’s no way they just ‘seemed cleaner’ when you did it. That’s ridiculous.”

“Be quiet for a minute and just let me revel in the fact that the legendary _Wanheda_ was just on her knees spit shining my boots. Okay? I feel like that’s a once in a lifetime accomplishment.”

“Fucking cunt,” Clarke muttered into her beer can as she took another swallow.

Kara’s laughter rang out through that section of the camp.

\--

Octavia picked her head up at the sound of Cooper’s laugh. So did Raven.

“Was that Cooper?” Raven asked, wincing as she shifted positions on the cot.

Octavia was on her knees next to it, still not willing to attempt sitting on her bruised ass, and she gave a sort of nonplussed grunt. “Yeah. What the fuck.”

“It didn’t sound particularly maniacal,” Raven noted. “It sounded… like… genuinely amused. You’d better go check on her.”

“Be right back,” Octavia said with a nod, slowly getting to her feet and walking out of the tent just as slowly. Every step still agitated her backside, so she walked slowly and deliberately, trying to look like it was just how she felt like walking. Hopefully it seemed calculated and purposeful. She was in semi-hostile territory, after all, so caution was actually warranted. When she saw Cooper and Clarke by the fire with beers, a discarded rag right next to Clarke, and boots that were gleaming off the firelight, she turned right around and returned to the tent. “She’s with Clarke,” she informed Raven.

“Clarke isn’t overly amusing these days,” Raven said with a furrowed brow.

“Maybe she’s an accidental comedian,” Octavia suggested, resuming her kneel at Raven’s side. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a truck hit me,” Raven admitted. “But to be honest with you, the only part of me that’s hurting is physical, and I’ll take that any day over what I’ve been feeling most of the past few years.”

The implications of that winded Octavia and she closed her eyes, laying a hand on Raven’s arm. “I… did that?” she asked, not quite daring to believe that’s what Raven meant. How could she, a monster in her own right, make anyone else’s mental state better? It should be impossible.

“You did,” Raven said after observing Octavia quietly for a moment. “Somehow, you managed a miracle.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re going to be sweet and gentle all the time once you’re healed up, does it?”

It was Raven’s turn to laugh loud enough to be heard a ways around them. “Not on your life.”

Octavia breathed a sigh of relief.

“There are plenty of ways for me to be unsweet and ungentle even before I’m healed up, you realize this, right? I can humiliate you without lifting a finger, as long as you’re a good little bitch and obey…”

The sigh turned to a shiver.

“I know how much you hated masturbating in front of me. Imagine doing it on the floor here in this tent.”

The shiver turned to a whimper and Octavia leaned her forehead on Raven’s hip. “A little sweet and gentle never hurt anyone,” she ventured.

Raven laughed softly, and when the sound quieted, she spoke in a low voice. “Come here.”

Octavia lifted her head, tilted it in confusion. “I’m here,” she said. “I can’t get on top of you or Abby will sever all of my limbs.”

“No, come here,” Raven explained with a gesture, carefully lifting her unrestrained arm to tap a finger against her lips. “Give me a kiss.”

Octavia gasped. For all the things they had done together, they hadn’t done that. It was such a simple act, but so significant in meaning. The fact that Raven wanted it made her feel all kinds of ways. She slowly leaned up, stopping with her lips a breath away to let Raven have control.

Raven grinned, her eyes lighting up with pride. “Good girl,” she whispered before pressing her mouth to Octavia’s.

Octavia’s eyelids fluttered, a soft sound of appreciation murmured into the kiss. She had imagined a dozen times what Raven would taste like, but didn’t get it right a single time. There was no way to describe it other than divine. No fruit, no wine, no flavor would do it justice. It was just _Raven_. She tasted like Raven.

Raven slipped her tongue into Octavia’s mouth for the briefest of seconds before she broke the kiss, intending to leave both of them wanting more. “In a few days, when I’m cleared to leave this cot, I’m gonna fuck you so many times you’ll beg me to stop.”

Octavia whined at the loss of Raven’s mouth and couldn’t imagine a world where she would beg for such a thing, but then Raven had a way of making her beg for whatever Raven wanted her to beg for.

\--

“You’re angry,” Kara said after Clarke hadn’t spoken again for a good five minutes.

Clarke smirked. “I called you a fucking cunt because it’s true, not because I’m angry,” she said, turning around on the bench to face the other woman.

“Ah. I didn’t realize we were supposed to say things just because they’re true,” she said with a glint in her eyes. “In that case, you’re a fucking cunt, too.”

Clarke set down her beer and stared at Cooper.

Kara couldn’t read Clarke’s expression for the life of her and she was completely unprepared for the next moment in which she had the aforementioned _Wanheda_ suddenly straddling her lap, a knee on her chair on either side of her thighs. Her instincts kicked in and she put one hand protectively over her stomach and used the other to splay over Clarke’s chest and shove as hard as she could.

Clarke shrieked in surprise as she went flying onto her back in the dirt, then stared at Cooper, speechless.

It took Kara a few seconds to assess the situation, and when she saw Clarke’s hands were empty, confusion settled over her, unnerving her to say the least.

Clarke took in Cooper’s confused expression and hand over her stomach, quickly replayed the last five seconds in her head, and blinked. “You thought I was going to attack you?”

“I—w—yes,” Kara stumbled over her words. “You weren’t?”

“No!” Clarke said incredulously. “Why would I attack you? I was—” She stopped talking because now there was no way she was going to admit what she’d been about to do. “I was just being silly. Isn’t that what we’re doing here? Being stupid enough to drink beer and sit by the fire when we could be sleeping or working?”

Kara noticed Clarke’s cheeks dusted pink, but she was the one who should be embarrassed, shouldn’t she? Freaking out for no reason? Until she thought of Clarke’s recent history – Lexa, Niylah – and put two and two together, thighs snapping shut as she sat up straighter. “You—” Wow, it seemed neither of them could finish a sentence properly.

Clarke stood up and brushed the dirt from her ass, turning to leave.

“Wait,” Kara called before she could think it through. What the fuck was she supposed to say? Or do?

Clarke paused but didn’t turn around.

“Just come back here for a second,” Kara said for lack of a more insightful, comforting or intelligent thing to say.

Clarke sighed and rolled her eyes but grudgingly walked back over to stand in front of Cooper’s chair. “What?”

Stomach twisting, Kara grabbed Clarke by the belt buckle and jerked her forward so _Wanheda_ was once again straddling her lap. She hadn’t thought past that part.

They both just stared at each other for what seemed like forever, and finally they both leaned forward at the same time, but both were surprised when their lips actually touched, and Clarke jumped backwards to her feet while Kara leaned back as far as her chair would allow.

Something stirred in the soldier. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done that,” she said, her voice somewhere between calm and… not calm.

“Our lips barely touched and we both just acted like teenagers getting caught making out in the broom closet,” Clarke said, her voice the same.

“Probably because we realized we don’t even really like each other and this would be a disaster of colossal proportions,” Kara offered.

“We _are_ on opposite sides if a war comes,” Clarke agreed. “Well, sort of.”

“You’re not my usual type,” Kara continued, feeling like they needed more reasons to walk away from each other.

“Because I’m blonde?” Clarke teased.

“Because you’re female,” Kara said, head tilted.

“You expect me to believe you’ve never fucked Octavia?”

“I haven’t, actually, but even if I had, that wouldn’t be about attraction, it would be about duty and doing what was necessary to protect and serve.”

“Right… right. Workaholic,” Clarke said with a little smirk and a nod.

“I did get a little wet when you were shining my boots, though,” Kara confessed.

“Oh, is that what it takes for you to be interested in a girl? She has to be on her knees?” She could see Cooper’s throat muscles work as she swallowed. “Or maybe her hands and knees?” she said, her voice dropping an octave. “Bent over a table, like Octavia was for Raven? How about… tied up and begging?”

“Clarke,” Kara said, though she wasn’t sure if it was an admission or a warning.

“Is it the being tied up or the begging?” Clarke asked, since it was obvious one of those hit the nail on the head. “Because I don’t mind being tied up but I’m not going to beg.” And with that she turned and walked away.

Kara just sat there, completely wrecked, staring after Clarke as she walked away, her hands gripping the arms of her chair so tightly it was almost painful. “Jesus fucking Christ.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven has had enough of Abby and Octavia's attitudes toward each other. Kara is avoiding Clarke.

Octavia wasn’t allowed to spend that much time in the medical tent while Raven was recovering. Not that she listened to Abby, but Raven listened to Abby and she listened to Raven. So far it had been almost twenty-four hours and she’d only been allowed in for maybe three of them. The rest of the time she spent sulking outside the tent or grudgingly attending to her duties when Cooper reminded her of them.

She had just finished the last session of the day teaching the younger kids some basic fighting skills, took a quick shower, and was listening to make sure Abby wasn’t in the medical tent. When she surmised that Raven was alone, she snuck inside and knelt down next to the cot just as Raven reached for her and pulled her into a kiss.

“Can’t stay away?” Raven murmured, arching an eyebrow. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here any more until tomorrow…”

“I just wish you could get the fuck out of here,” Octavia said with a frown.

“I know, you hate other people’s rules,” Raven said with a grin. “I’m getting better. I can move without grunting, at least. I’ll probably only be stuck here for another day; two at the most.”

“That sounds like fucking forever,” Octavia snapped.

Raven wasn’t restrained anymore and she slapped Octavia’s face, hard. “Don’t talk to me like that,” she said, eyes narrowing. “You think me being laid up means you can say whatever you want?”

Octavia yelped quietly and put a hand to her stinging cheek, only to have it batted away.

“Since when do you think it’s okay to rub your face when I slap you?” Raven asked, a bit incredulous.

Octavia quickly put her hand down at her side. “I wasn’t snapping at you,” she said with a frown that looked suspiciously close to a pout. “Just at the situation.”

“I am the situation,” Raven replied, not giving an inch.

“I’m sorry,” Octavia mumbled, snuggling her forehead into Raven’s hip.

Abby suddenly emerged through the tent flap. “Okay, Raven, time for—what are you doing here?” she asked, displeasure evident in her voice and her stiff posture. “You’re not supposed to be here. Out.”

“I’m staying,” Octavia growled, hackles rising as she picked up her head and turned to look over her shoulder at Abby.

“You’re not,” Abby countered, as if it were that simple.

Teeth bared, Octavia turned back to Raven, resolving to just ignore the doctor. She didn’t answer to Abby fucking Griffin and she never would. Never again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Raven said pointedly.

Octavia’s snarl stayed put and she spoke through gritted teeth. “I want to stay. I’m not disrupting your rest. She just wants me out because she can’t stand to look at the monster she helped create.” She knew Raven was going to discipline her for that, she just couldn’t help it.

“You’re not?” Raven retorted, one eyebrow lifting. “I’ve already had to slap you once. How is that restful?”

Despite herself, Octavia felt rejected at that, and when she felt rejected, she lashed out. “Oh, I get it. You don’t want an audience when she makes you lick her pussy.”

Raven’s hand twitched, the urge to backhand Octavia crashing over her like a tidal wave, but that’s exactly what the little girl was hoping for. So with every fiber of strength she possessed, she didn’t rise to the bait. She whispered instead, so Abby couldn’t hear her. “You really don’t want me to put you down in front of Abby, do you? Take a second to think it through.”

Octavia’s nostrils flared with the force of her breathing, anger curling through her like tendrils of smoke. Her eyes welled with tears and she gave a slight shake of her head. No, she didn’t want that. “I just want to be with you,” she whispered back.

Raven’s heart broke a little but she did her best not to show it. “We have all the time in the world, _strikgada_. Be patient for me, please? You can come back first thing tomorrow, okay?”

Octavia sniffled and nodded.

Raven’s voice lowered even further and she tilted Octavia’s chin up to look at her. “Tell Cooper I said to give you a few lashes on your back with those gauntlet laces. Maybe on your thighs, too. Then come show them to me in the morning.”

Octavia couldn’t contain a groan no matter who their audience was, and again she nodded. She didn’t trust herself to say goodbye so she just slowly got to her feet, shot Abby one last glare, and exited the tent.

Once they were alone, Abby handed Raven a pill and a cup of water. “I’m not asking,” she said with a smirk. “Don’t worry.”

Raven smirked right back at her. "I wouldn't answer if you did." She downed the pill and handed back the cup, then settled down on her side to get some sleep.

\--

“Cooper,” Octavia barked as she passed the training yard on her way to the bunker. “Come with me. Now.”

Kara deflected a sword strike and put her hand up to stop her opponent from continuing. “Good job. We’ll pick this up tomorrow. Practice on the dummies for another hour and then you can be done for the day.”

The teenager nodded and headed off to the row of dummies lining one edge of the yard.

Kara jogged to catch up with Octavia, who hadn’t bothered to stop walking. “Something wrong?” she asked when they were alone in the bunker.

Octavia opened the doors to her quarters, a blush on her cheeks. “No… I just need your assistance.” Once Kara was inside, she shut and barred the doors even though no one else was allowed into the bunker after sunset. “Raven said to—” She started pacing, not having expected it to be this difficult to ask her second to whip her. Kara had offered to do anything she needed, so why were the words jumbling on her tongue and refusing to come out? “Raven said to tell you to—” Again, she stopped talking, running her hands through her hair.

“Breathe,” Kara said after a few more rounds of pacing, getting dizzy watching Octavia walk back and forth in front of her. “Whatever you need. You know that.”

“Give me a minute,” Octavia snapped, her face feeling like it was on fire. Finally she stopped walking and undid her gauntlets, pulled out the laces, and handed them to Cooper. “I misbehaved,” she said matter-of-factly, taking care to put no emotion behind the words.

Kara stared at the laces in her hands for a good thirty seconds before raising her eyes to Octavia’s. “Raven wants _me_ to lash you?” She didn’t think for all the world that Raven would trust her to do that. “Are you sure she said Cooper and not Clarke?”

“If you don’t want to I can just tell her—”

“That’s not it,” Kara rushed to assure her queen. “There aren’t many people I’m afraid of. Raven is one of the few I’ve never wanted to cross. She may not be a lunatic or a terrorist or a mass murderer, but her intellect is terrifying. She could kill a person without touching them or leaving any trace, just by putting something in the air, the water, some electronic gadget… She could probably make a person’s pillow smother them in their sleep or turn them into a vegetable or paralyze them somehow.”

Octavia turned away and covered her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. To hear Kara Cooper listing all the paranoid ways she was afraid Raven could incapacitate or kill her when the woman feared nothing… it was just unexpectedly comical. She bit her cheek and turned back around, composed. “I’m sure she said Cooper.”

Kara swallowed and nodded. She didn’t find it funny at all. Intelligence was far more useful and ominous than brute strength. “What exactly are my instructions?”

Octavia started shedding her armor, then took off her tank top. “She said to give me a few lashes on my back and my thighs.”

“Anywhere on your back?” She was all business now, finalizing the details of the negotiation.

“She wasn’t specific, so I would guess yes.” She got out of her boots and pants, then stepped up to the wall and put her hands against it on either side of her head.

Kara stood behind her and hefted the laces in her hand, getting a feel for their arc and weight. “Are you ready?”

Octavia flexed her shoulders and relaxed. “Yes. Make sure you do it hard enough to leave marks. She wants to see them in the morning.”

Kara repeated a phrase that Octavia had said to her. “Copy that.” She took a slow breath and swung the laces in a circle a few times before lashing them across Octavia’s upper back with just enough force to raise immediate welts but not break the skin.

Octavia sucked in a hissing breath through her teeth, back arching to absorb the sting. She took a moment and then relaxed her posture, moving back into position.

Kara worked with utilitarian focus, striping Octavia’s back a few more times and then moving away slightly so she could get at her thighs from the proper angle. “Do you need a break?” Her queen was leaning her forehead on the wall, hands curled into fists. Her back was a gorgeous mess of raised red lines that Kara hoped Raven would approve of.

Octavia’s skin felt singed, so much more than the two lashes Raven had given her so many days ago. It burned like fire, but in the most amazing, delicious way. “No,” she answered simply.

Kara cleared her throat and adjusted the arc of the laces so she could whip them horizontally across the backs of Octavia’s thighs.

Octavia jumped at that; it felt different than on her back. And being so close to her still bruised ass, she was a little touchy about it. When the next blow landed she went up on her toes, trying to make sure none of the tips came near her bruises. Not that she thought Kara would miss, it was just instinct.

“One more should be sufficient,” Kara said, still all business as she wound up and sliced the queen’s thighs once again, watching Octavia jump for a third time. “They look good. No broken skin, but a lot of angry red marks.”

“Thanks,” Octavia said, though it felt strange to thank someone for that. “I need a minute.”

“Of course,” Kara allowed, unbarring the doors and stepping out. “I’ll be in the hallway,” she told the queen before shutting the doors behind her. It was at that moment she realized she was still clutching the gauntlet laces. She had been avoiding Clarke since last night but the blonde’s words still haunted her. _Because I don’t mind being tied up but I’m not going to beg_. The laces in her hand took on a whole new form of torture as an image of them wrapped around Clarke’s wrists flashed through her mind. _Wanheda_. The commander of death, willing to let Kara tie her up. Just what the fuck.

Octavia stood against the wall letting the lashes burn, imagining Raven there with her to either soothe them or drag her fingernails through them. She wished she could go show them off now. Right now. She hated having someone else decide when she could see Raven and when she couldn’t. Especially Abby.

Before she could let that train of thought send her into a downward spiral, she focused on the physical sensations and took a deep breath, then turned away from the wall and crawled into bed, practically flopping down onto her stomach. “You can come in,” she called toward the closed doors.

Octavia’s voice snapped Kara out of her tumultuous thoughts and she went back inside, barring the doors again and dropping the offensive laces on top of the queen’s gauntlets before climbing onto her cot with a sigh.

“Are you sleeping in here again?” Octavia asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why else would you say I could come back in? Anyway, I don’t like leaving you unguarded, even if your doors lock.”

Octavia wasn’t going to argue. She liked being with Cooper better than she liked being alone lately, though her second didn’t need to know that. “Suit yourself. If that cot is more comfortable than yours, who am I to send you back out to the wolves?”

Kara snorted and laid down, exhaustion creeping into her bones the second her head hit the pillow.

“Hey, Cooper?” Octavia said quietly once she could sense that Kara had fallen asleep. “It means a lot. Your loyalty.” Maybe she couldn’t yet say things like that when other people were conscious, but it still felt good to say it out loud for once.

\--

Octavia wasn’t generally an early riser, but since she had risen to power she found herself waking up before the sun most days just to get a head start on things. Today was no exception and she waited impatiently for sunrise, then made her way into the camp and over to the medical tent. “Are you decent?” she teased, more to make sure Raven was awake than anything.

“Never,” Raven called out in response. “Come in, my impatient little girl…”

Octavia shivered at the address and slipped inside, happy to see Raven sitting up. “Hey, looking good,” she said as she moved to gently hug the mechanic.

Raven was happier to see Octavia than she would let on, and she wrapped her up in a careful embrace. “Were you good last night?” she whispered into Octavia’s ear.

Another shiver, and Octavia nodded. “Yes…”

“Was Cooper?” Raven then smirked.

Octavia snorted out a little laugh and nodded again. “Yes. Did you know you’re one of the few people she’s afraid of?”

“Say what?”

“Because you’re so smart. She thinks you could paralyze people or kill them by putting something in the air or like… hacking their pillow’s guidance systems or something.”

“The guidance systems that our non-electronic pillows don’t have?” Raven asked, wildly amused.

“Basically.”

Raven flopped over onto her back, laughing. “I have no words,” she finally said, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes.

Octavia loved the sound of Raven’s laugh and her face lit up as she listened. “I thought that might amuse you.”

“Did you make that up?”

“No, unfortunately, it’s true,” Octavia said with her own laugh. “Or fortunately, I guess, since it guarantees she doesn’t want to get on your bad side.”

Abby chose that moment to waltz in with Raven’s morning pain pill and antibiotic, and upon seeing Octavia her entire demeanor changed from pleasant to rigid. “Jesus Christ. Can there be one fucking time when I come into this tent and you’re not here?”

“Sure, if you let Raven get the fuck out of this lame excuse for a hospital room,” Octavia snapped back.

“All right that’s enough!” Raven shouted, sitting up again. “Both of you, I’ve fucking had enough!” She knew everything that had gone down even though she’d been in space and not underground. Word traveled as soon as the bunker’s door had been pried open.

Abby and Octavia both stared at Raven, jaws slack.

“You both hate each other. So fucking what? Half of the people on Earth hate each other and they still manage to be civil when forced to interact. You should both be ashamed of yourselves, acting like spoiled fucking children.”

Jaws remained slack.

“Abby. Apologize to Octavia for always being the first one to go out of your way to be rude when you find her here with me.”

“What?” Abby breathed. She wasn’t used to being ordered around by Raven.

“I’ll go first,” Octavia said, surprising them all. “I’m sorry you can’t stand to look at me. I’m sorry that when you do look at me, you think of them. Of what we did. Of what you told me we had to do and then let everyone think it was all _Blodreina_. I’m sorry that my existence perpetuates your gnawing, crushing guilt.”

“Is that so? Well I’m sorry, too. Sorry you chose to shoot three people in cold blood instead of pulling Marcus aside and explaining the situation in full. I’m sorry you compensated for _your_ gnawing, crushing guilt by becoming this villainous fairy tale creature, stuffing your emotions so far down you can’t access them anymore. I’m sorry you’re a shell of a human fucking being!”

“Enough!” Raven shouted again. “You’re apologizing for each other, not to each other.” She stood up and grabbed Octavia by the arm, spinning her away from both of them, but she stayed looking at Abby. “Octavia is not a shell.” She grabbed the hem of the black beater her girl always wore and jerked it up to her shoulder blades.

“What am I looking at?” Abby asked as her eyes roamed the raised red welts covering Octavia’s back.

Raven put her face right in Abby’s breathing room, her jaw clenched. “Emotions.” As she saw that sink in and make sense, she issued a low warning. “Don’t you ever tell her she doesn’t feel anything. _Ever_.”

“Octavia,” Abby breathed, her hand shaking as she feathered her fingertips over a few of the welts. She had to re-evaluate months of judgment in a single second and tears streamed down her cheeks. “Octavia,” she said again, her shaking hand moving to grip the girl’s bicep, an anchor in the sudden storm. “I’m sorry.” And this time it was genuine. “I’m sorry I let you take the fall for everything. You were stronger than me… I couldn’t bear to have Marcus look at me the way he looked at you. It’s no excuse. I was a coward and you weren’t. And you’re right… I don’t hate you. I can’t look at you because I’m responsible for part of everything that happened. I’m so sorry…”

Hearing Abby’s reasons and her apology was almost worse than bearing her hatred. It was like wounds clawed open; made fresh. She blinked back tears, unwilling to cry in front of anyone but Raven, and bowed her head, not daring to turn around. “I’m sorry I shot them. I’m sorry for what my actions did to Marcus, how everything tortured him more than everyone else. I’m sorry for the—” Her voice caught and she forced it stronger. “For the pit. For allowing him in it. Not a day goes by that I’m not plagued by those things, Abby. Not a single day.”

Abby gave a heaving sob and wrapped her arms around Octavia, pulling the girl back against her chest. “I realize that now,” she whispered after a few moments. “Your regret never shows, I just assum—”

“It can’t,” Octavia interrupted her. “Even now, no one outside this tent can see it. Can know it exists.” She was using all of her willpower not to cut and run. Abby holding her like this was excruciating. She could barely stand it, not when they’d spent so long at odds. It was harder to stomach than Cooper crying. “Please let go,” she finally breathed when it felt like her muscles were about to detach from her bones and her skin was on the verge of dissolving.

Abby blinked but dropped her arms, wiping her tears with her hands instead, then running her fingers through her hair. “Stay as long as you want,” she told Octavia gently, but she had to get out of there. She handed Raven her pills and gave her a quick hug, then left the tent.

Once Abby was gone, Octavia melted.

Raven caught her before she hit the ground, lowering them both down carefully. She sat with her legs stretched out in front of her, leaning against one leg of the cot, holding Octavia against her while she cried.

\--

“Are you avoiding me?”

Kara didn’t look up when Clarke’s shadow fell over her sketchbook. “We’re not neighbors. It’s not like I’m washing my car in the garage so I don’t have to wave when you get home from work.”

Clarke put her hands on her hips. “But you’re avoiding me.”

“Yes.”

“Because I came on to you?”

“No.” She finished the last stroke on an area of shading in her drawing and peered up at Clarke, who was strikingly backlit by the sun so she had to squint. “Well, not directly.”

“Then what? It’s annoying.”

“How did you even know I’m avoiding you? It’s barely been more than one day. We don’t see each other every day on a normal schedule.”

“I can just tell,” Clarke said, irritated. Her hands went from her hips to fold her arms across her chest.

Kara sighed. This was why she didn’t make friends. “At least sit down so I don’t have to squint.”

Clarke sat next to her and leaned against the tree, not bothering to try and get a look at Cooper’s sketch this time, so she was surprised when the book was pressed into her hands. She glanced down and her eyes widened, a blush darkening her face and crawling down her neck. Cooper had drawn her naked and tied up. It wasn’t finished, but it was close enough to being finished that the image was clear as day.

“I don’t usually draw people,” Kara said with a tiny smirk, running her finger across the drawing, right over Clarke’s lips.

Clarke could almost feel it on her actual lips and they suddenly tingled, making her press them together. Cooper’s finger trailed down her naked body in the drawing and she shivered, quickly handing the sketchbook back. She wondered if she was in over her head. “So it’s not the begging,” she finally said when her cheeks stopped flaming.

“It’s not the begging,” Kara confirmed, carefully closing her sketchbook and putting it into her pack. “Although your decree that you don’t beg did feel like somewhat of a challenge, and you know I hate to lose.”

“Everyone hates to lose.”

“I didn’t say it was a unique trait.”

“So why exactly are you avoiding me?” Clarke moved back to the original subject.  
  
“You’re a distraction.”

Clarke wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or insulted. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I’ve thought about a hundred different ways to restrain you, and that’s a hundred times I should have been thinking about _Blodreina_.”

Was it possible to be jealous of someone who wasn’t even Cooper’s lover when _Clarke_ wasn’t even Cooper’s lover? She thought it was. “I doubt Octavia wants you thinking about her twenty-four hours a day. That’s why guards have shifts.”

“Why do you want to be around me, anyway? I can think of a dozen people who are better company.”

“You can not.”

“Okay. Abby, Niylah, Echo, Bellamy, Emori, M—”

“Don’t say Murphy.”

Kara couldn’t help a snicker. “I was going to say Miller.”

“That’s five.”

“That’s six, and I wasn’t finished. You interrupted me.”

“You can’t count my mother.”

“Fine. Jackson, Diyoza, Kane—”

“Diyoza?” Clarke interrupted again. “You think Diyoza is better company than you?”

“Have you ever actually talked to her? She’s a very interesting person.”

“It must have slipped my mind when she had me hostage,” Clarke said with an eye roll.

“Wouldn’t that be the perfect time to try to find out everything you can about someone and use it against them?”

“Workaholic,” Clarke muttered.

Kara laughed, and when she realized Clarke had made her laugh twice in two days when she hadn’t laughed in probably years, not a real laugh anyway, she stopped and stared. Her heart was suddenly racing, her breath hitching, and there was a very good chance she was going to get up and run. Except Clarke spoke and diffused the situation.

“Let me see that drawing again?” Clarke asked, realizing something had shifted in Cooper when the other woman stopped laughing abruptly and stared at her like a radioactive deer in headlights.

Cooper forced herself to exhale and shrug off the fight or flight response she was experiencing. She reached beside her and pulled out the sketchbook, opening it to the drawing of Clarke, and handed it over.

Clarke ran her finger carefully over the rope in the picture that was covering her entire right arm. “I was just wondering if this knot has a name,” she said quietly.

“It does,” Kara replied just as quietly, swallowing slowly before continuing. “It’s a loop chain. Easy to get out of, but pretty to look at.”

“It is pretty,” Clarke agreed, trailing her finger across to her left wrist, which was in an entirely different knot. “And this one?”

Kara’s voice sounded a bit dreamy as she answered. “That one is a Lark’s Head single column,” she breathed. “You probably couldn’t get out of that.”

“How did you learn all this?” Clarke asked, never taking her eyes from the page as she traced the knot with her fingertip.

Kara needed to shut down whatever was building up here, give herself time to think, to regroup, so she made her second joke since they’d hit the ground. “The restricted section of the Hogwarts library.”

It took Clarke a second to get it, but when she did she burst out laughing. She stood up and tossed the book down to Cooper, recognizing the joke for the defense mechanism it was, but she couldn’t resist one last tease, turning to look at the woman over her shoulder as she started to walk away. “Oh, just one thing,” she said, nodding toward the book. “I shave.”

Kara’s amusement thudded to a halt and she watched Clarke walk away, a pounding pulse between her thighs. “Fuck.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Octavia pisses Raven off. Then later she and Kara have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Na ai - can I  
Sha - yes

Octavia had actually fallen asleep in Raven’s arms, and when she woke up a few hours later sharing Raven’s cot in medical, she bolted to her feet. “What time is it? I’m probably missing something,” she asked, trying to cover the awkwardness she felt by focusing on her duties as queen.

“Cooper came by a few minutes ago and said there was some paperwork on some dispute but that it could wait until tonight.”

“Since when does she decide if it can wait?” Octavia snarled, overcompensating. She turned to leave but Raven’s voice stopped her.

“_Strikgada_.”

Nothing like being called little girl in that tone of voice to make her shiver. She froze before she’d even taken a step. “What?” she asked impatiently.

Raven exhaled slowly to calm her irritation. It didn’t work. “Get your fucking ass over here and get on your knees, right now,” she said, and if Octavia couldn’t read the warning in her words there was going to be hell to pay.

“I don’t have time for this since you let me fall asleep,” Octavia snapped. “I have things to do.”

Raven did not give one shit that Octavia was trying to distance herself because she felt weird falling apart in her arms and then falling asleep. She was off the cot and took Octavia easily down to the ground, face first, pressing a boot to the back of the girl’s neck no matter how much it hurt her bad leg to stand like that.

Octavia cried out in surprise, getting a mouthful of dirt, and strained against what she assumed was Raven’s boot on her neck. The position she was in gave her no leverage, however, and she finally just turned her face to the side, spitting out dirt as she let her cheek rest on the ground. When she heard footsteps she started struggling again, but she had to stop if she didn’t want to risk breaking a vertebra.

Abby took one look at the scene and pressed her lips into a tight line, turning to leave.

“No,” Raven said to Abby. “Stay. This little girl needs to learn some humility.”

Abby looked down at Octavia and then back at Raven. “Uhhh…”

“Sit down,” Raven hissed, satisfied when she had at least startled Abby into sitting.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Octavia growled. “Abby, get the fuck out.”

“Shut up, Octavia,” Raven growled right back at her, pressing harder with her boot.

Octavia could feel each grain of dirt digging into her cheek, leaving tiny indentations in her skin. She could taste the bitter grit still lingering in her mouth. She could hear the soft scraping sound every time her face moved. “I’m not fucking kidding,” Octavia issued her own warning. “Get her the fuck out of here.”

It wasn’t like Abby wanted to be there, but something in Raven’s eyes made her stay put.

Raven stripped off her belt in one fluid motion and cracked it down across Octavia’s tender ass, the gasping whimper from beneath her telling her she had the girl’s attention. Finally. She cracked it again and watched Octavia’s fingers dig into the ground, dirt sliding under her nails.

Abby had no idea what she was doing there, other than humiliating Octavia. But then… maybe that was the reason Raven wanted her to stay. She was stunned stupid that Octavia hadn’t gotten up and snapped Raven’s neck, until she remembered the lashes on Octavia’s back, and things started to make a little sense. She closed her eyes, though. Raven could use her if she wanted, but that didn’t mean she had to watch.

“More?” Raven asked, pausing with her arm raised.

Octavia shook her head fervently. Maybe if her ass wasn’t already bruised and aching, but Raven had made her point, and no, she didn’t want any more. Especially not in front of Abby.

“What?” Raven asked, landing another sharp slap of the leather. “I couldn’t hear you, you disrespectful little cunt.”

Abby’s eyebrows shot skyward at that even if she kept her eyes closed.

Octavia cried out softly and squirmed beneath the assault. “No, _Azheda_,” she answered aloud this time. She was a quick study. “No more.”

“I’m gonna take my boot off your neck and you’d better fucking stay down,” Raven directed, slowly easing the pressure off and removing the hold, her leg screaming at her that she was an idiot. She didn’t let the pain show on her face as she stood now with both feet on the ground.

Octavia stayed where she was, not daring to move. If Raven would talk to her like that in front of Abby, spank her in front of Abby, she didn’t want to know what else. Heat flared between her thighs as much as it did on her face. Did Raven have any idea how good she was at making Octavia feel _bad_?

“Beg me to let you kiss my boots. To let you earn forgiveness.”

Abby stood up and moved to the tent flap before Raven could object. “I’m drawing the line here,” she said quietly. “I’ll knock before coming in next time.”

Raven let her go without comment, focused solely on Octavia anyway. “Don’t make me wait, bitch.”

Octavia swallowed a mouthful of pride and offered in a shaky voice, “please let me earn forgiveness.” Did she want to, though? Yet?

Raven let out a very unfriendly laugh, entirely disappointed with Octavia’s lack of effort. She went down on her good knee since squatting was too uncomfortable and reached beneath Octavia to undo her pants. She dragged them down, just past Octavia’s backside, pausing for a second when the sight of the girl’s bruised ass came into view, a tiny pang of guilt trying to work its way into her chest, but she deflected it with expert ease and pulled out her dagger, flipping it with the blade toward her, and used one hand along with her good knee to get Octavia’s virgin cheeks spread wide.

“No!” Octavia shrieked, pushing up like lightning onto her hands and knees and crawling away from Raven, curling up in one corner of the tent. She certainly didn’t feel like a queen right now. Covered in dirt, with some still in her mouth, her right cheek abraded and throbbing, pants down, ass bruised and her pride bruised worse, she felt more like a slave. A powerful surge of shuddering arousal shook through her, but she stayed put, determined not to let Raven do _that_. Not without a good fight.

Raven was fully aware of the difference between dub-con and non-con, and she was no rapist, so while she was steaming that Octavia crawled away from her like that, she wasn’t going to physically force her to take it. Not this. She would just use everything she knew to have Octavia begging for it instead. “Aw, baby, I thought we were past this,” she said condescendingly, rising to her feet and walking to stand over Octavia, dagger now clutched with the blade facing away from herself.

Octavia would have cherished the term of endearment if it wasn’t meant as a taunt, and she sniffed back tears, wiping her nose with her tank top and curling tighter into herself.

Raven walked back and forth in front of the cowering girl, deliberately slowly, her eyes on the dagger in her hand. “You _will_ take this in your ass today,” she said, not a shred of doubt lacing her words. “The only question is whether it will be to earn forgiveness or as a punishment.”

Octavia shuddered, tears clouding her eyes again. “No,” she shook her head. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“You will,” Raven said assuredly, leaning down to kiss Octavia’s forehead. “I’m going to put it away for now but don’t mistake that for an act of lenience.” She straightened back up and sheathed the dagger in its calf holster. Her ribs protested all of this action but instead of allowing that to force her back to bed, she marshaled her determination and used the pain as fuel. “Come here.” She held out a hand, watching Octavia hesitantly take it, and she tugged her to her feet, pulling up her pants for her. “Let’s have a little talk.”

Octavia trusted Raven not to go back on her word, and she allowed herself to be helped to her feet, not sure whether she was relieved or disappointed when her pants were suddenly back in place. She followed along to the cot and was about to kneel when she was pulled onto Raven’s lap, gentle arms around her. She frowned in confusion. What was this? “A talk?” she managed to ask in a dry, scratchy voice.

“Yep,” Raven said. “Do you remember the first night you came to me in my tent and offered me something better than hurting myself?”

“Of course,” Octavia answered, one of her fingers idly tracing patterns across Raven’s forearm.

“What did you tell me you wanted?”

“For you to hurt me, humiliate me and break me.”

Raven brushed some dirt from Octavia’s cheek and tucked a lock of dark, unruly hair behind her ear. “Do you think I’ve hurt you?”

Octavia breathed out slowly. “Yes.”

“I think so, too. Do you think I’ve humiliated you?”

Her face flushed just at the question. “Yes.”

“Agreed,” Raven nodded. “Do you think I’ve broken you?”

Octavia stared down at her finger as it wound its way back and forth over Raven’s tanned skin. “Yes.”

“Yes, although it seems it didn’t quite stick,” Raven agreed again. “But I digress. You asked me to do three things, and I did them. Rather well, if I do say so myself.” Octavia seemed so suddenly childlike that she couldn’t stop herself from using that. “Mommy takes good care of you, doesn’t she?”

Octavia barely noticed the title, she was enveloped in the comfort and the bigger picture of what Raven was saying. “Yes,” she acknowledged.

“Is there anything I have asked from you in return besides respect?”

Octavia’s calm shattered at that and she turned to look up at Raven with wide eyes. “But I—"

“Is there?” Raven interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

Octavia knew she should have seen the question coming but somehow she hadn’t. “No,” she said, her entire body trembling.

“So I do all these things for you, take such good care of you, and you don’t think you can give me the littlest thing back by treating me with respect? Doing as you’re told? Being a good girl?”

The guilt was twisting inside her and she had to give Raven credit for a masterful setup. Now she truly did want forgiveness. It may have been a setup but it was absolutely true and she was ashamed of herself for behaving like an entitled asshole. To Raven. She was fine with her penchant for treating everyone else that way, but not Raven. “Oh no,” she said, the weight of her emotions making her slump back against Raven’s chest. “I’m sorry. I really—I’m sorry…”

Raven swallowed down the many, many things Octavia made her feel and ran her fingers though the girl’s messy hair. “Are you sorry enough?”

Octavia knew exactly what that meant even if she wished she didn’t. “There’s nothing else?” she breathed, already sure of the answer but needing to ask anyway.

“It doesn’t sound like you’re sorry enough,” Raven said with a sigh. “Maybe you should just go back to your—”

“Raven, _please_,” Octavia interrupted, taking the slap to her thigh in stride as she fisted her hands in Raven’s jacket, clinging to the person she had come to need above all else. “I’m sorry enough,” she finally said. “But I’m afraid.”

The feeling of power that coursed through her at those three words, _I’m sorry enough_, was enough to scare her too. Dark and dangerous, beyond the normal spectrum of psychological reach. She forced herself to breathe a few times, to calm the raging beast trying to claw its way out of her, before she spoke. “What exactly are you afraid of, _strikgada_?”

Octavia did her best to qualify the fear, but the only thing she could concretely come up with was fear of the unknown. “Because it’s something I’ve never let anyone do before,” she tried to explain. “I’ve never done it to myself. I don’t know how it’s going to feel. If I hate it, will I resent you? If I love it, will you use it against me? Will allowing you to take that part of me mean I’ll always be missing a piece?”

Raven had sat there expecting Octavia to say pain or bleeding or something like that, and the litany of reservations that came out had her jaw literally going slack. She stared at the back of Octavia’s head with her mouth hanging open, at a loss for words. How could she have thought the answer would be as simple as pain or blood? Her girl was far too complex for that. “Baby,” she breathed, meaning it now as the endearment it was supposed to be, “I’ve taken so much from you already… do you feel like you’re missing pieces?”

Octavia had figured Raven would laugh at her given the mood she’d put the mechanic in, but what she got in response took her breath away. The word she’d wanted to hear in the way she’d wanted to hear it, and then… did she feel like she was missing pieces? Just the opposite, actually. “No,” she said, clinging tighter to Raven. “I feel more whole.”

Raven had guessed that answer correctly at least. “Anything I take from you is meant to put you back together stronger after I break you apart.”

“I’m sorry I was awful. I was insecure because I—”

“I know,” Raven said, putting a finger to Octavia’s lips. “I know why you did it. That doesn’t make it okay.”

“No,” Octavia rushed to agree, shaking her head. “I know it doesn’t, I just wanted you to know.”

“I already knew, baby,” Raven replied, kissing the back of her head. “Can I trust you to be good now and get your pants down for me and bend over this cot?”

Oh God oh God oh God. She squeezed her eyes shut as if that would make the world swallow her up. “Yes,” she finally said, hands shaking as she got off the cot and bent over it instead, carefully pushing her pants down to her knees. She couldn’t believe this was actually happening. She couldn’t believe Raven had been so perfect in getting her to accept it; to turn it from a struggle into something designed. “I know I don’t deserve it, but if Abby knocks can you please not let her come in?” she asked in a tiny voice, burying her face in her outstretched arms.

“This is between you and me, little girl,” Raven promised. “I will ask her to come back later if she knocks.”

That almost made Octavia feel worse for being such an asshole and she fought back tears. “Thank you,” she said in quiet appreciation. “I’m so sorry, Raven…”

“Shh,” Raven said, getting up after Octavia was bent over and compliant. She pulled the dagger once again and carefully flipped it so she was holding the blade. She reached around and placed the handle against Octavia’s lips. “You’re going to want to get this as wet as you can.”

That just made Octavia more nervous, but she opened her mouth and licked her way around the handle, then built up as much spit as she could and spread it around. When she couldn’t foresee it getting any wetter, she gave a little nod and it disappeared from view.

“Hold yourself open.”

Jesus Christ, Raven was just pouring on the humiliation. She didn’t even think of arguing, though, and her face burned as she reached back and did as she was told, the cool air on her exposed asshole making her shiver.

Raven purred at the unquestioning obedience and added a little extra spit before gently pushing the end of the handle between Octavia’s spread cheeks.

Octavia immediately tensed out of instinct, her whole body on high alert.

Raven waited patiently, knowing Octavia would make herself relax if she just gave the girl a minute.

When Raven didn’t scold her or force it in despite the way she was tensed up, another wave of shame at her behavior washed over Octavia and she exhaled a slow breath, letting out some of her tension with it, and to show she was ready, she lifted her hips a fraction of an inch.

Raven of course noticed the action, as subtle as it was, and she put a little pressure on the knife, her fingers pinched on the dull side of the blade where it met the handle. The very tip slid inside and Octavia’s body immediately tried to force it back out, but she wouldn’t allow it.

Octavia gasped, the foreign sensation too strange to process at the moment, and while her body acted on her behalf, she wasn’t sure she wanted to force the object out. She was reserving judgment; it was too soon to tell.

Raven gave her a few seconds to adjust and then applied more pressure, another inch of the handle disappearing into Octavia’s backside.

Her gasp became a little cry of surprise, her judgment still suspended while she tried to get used to the intrusion. It didn’t hurt, but it was somehow uncomfortable. She was just about to relax when Raven gave another push, and this time she felt the entire handle slide smoothly inside her, hitting spots she never knew existed and making her hips buck. “Oh my God,” she panted, suddenly short of breath.

“Good or bad?” Raven asked, keeping her little smirk to herself.

“I don’t know, I don’t know… good, I think… but weird…” Octavia was tossing her head from side to side, trying to find a comfortable position, but it was useless.

“You can let go now,” Raven told her, watching Octavia’s hands fly to the other edge of the cot and wrap around it. “I have my knife handle all the way inside your hot little ass,” she teased, wiggling her hand and loving Octavia’s responding moan. “Who else has had anything buried in your ass?” She knew the answer but she wanted to hear it.

“No one,” Octavia managed to say off the end of another moan.

“Tell me,” Raven purred, “how I’m the first one to fuck you here… the only one to fuck you here.”

Of course Raven wouldn’t make it easy to concentrate because she started wiggling her hand again, and a long, deep groan forced its way out when Raven pulled back and pushed in again. “I’m—I mean you—you are the first person to fuck me there, in my ass,” she recited. “You’re the only one I would ever let fuck my ass…”

Raven’s thighs twitched and she pulled out and pushed in again, Octavia’s little grunts and longer groans making her wetter than she already was. “Have you decided yet? Good or bad?” She pulled out farther and pushed in harder, pleased when Octavia rocked her hips to meet the thrust. “Never mind,” she grinned. “Your body knows how to answer faster than your mouth.” She switched hands with the knife so she could stroke two fingers of her right hand through Octavia’s dripping cunt, gathering wetness, and she pulled out with the knife, replacing it with her fingers, burying both of them in as far as they would go.

Octavia yelped, both at the loss and the sudden change in sensation when Raven’s fingers drove inside. “Raven,” she begged, wanting more and less at the same time.

“Tell me,” Raven demanded, drawing out and pushing in again, increasing her pace with every thrust. “Tell me you’re mine.” She was too far gone to entertain the idea that that might be crossing a line until she’d said it and her own words reverberated harshly in her ears. Fuck. What if—

“I’m yours,” Octavia swore instantly. “I’m yours, Raven, every part of me… oh God, please, I don’t know what to beg for, I don’t—”

“Get on your back.”

Octavia rolled onto her back, crying out at the loss as the movement forced Raven’s fingers out of her, but then they were back, and Raven was on the cot between her legs, and—oh Jesus Christ that was a tongue on her clit, and with the fingers in her ass and the newness of it all and her emotional state of absolute wreckage and devotion, Raven’s mouth was only on her for under a minute before she clamped her thighs around the mechanic’s head and bucked up into her, hovering on the edge. Somehow she knew it was right to ask, and she barely got the words out, resorting to the language that had become more familiar to her in some moments than English. “_Na ai_—”

“_Sha_,” Raven interrupted, sucking harder on Octavia’s clit, moaning against it as her girl came apart.

Wave after wave crashed over her until she was a panting, shuddering mess splayed out on the cot beneath Raven, tears streaming down her cheeks from the sheer overwhelming nature of the experience. “I’m sorry,” she cried, needing to say it again even though she had already said it more than once.

Raven slowly pulled her fingers out and wiped them on her pants, crawling up to look her girl in the eye. “I know, baby. I forgive you.”

Those three words were the entire world to Octavia at the moment and she swore to herself that if she picked a battle with Raven in the future, it wouldn’t be waged with disrespect.

\--

Well, she fell asleep in Raven’s arms again, and this time when she woke up it was dark, the tent lit only by the handmade lantern hanging from the top crossbeam. That meant someone had to have lit it and she prayed it had been Raven because her pants were still around her—no they weren’t. She looked down to confirm, and her lips split in a grin because Raven had apparently fixed them for her after she’d fallen asleep just in case anyone came in. She heard a chuckle from across the tent and turned her head, flashing that smile at the mechanic, who was seated in a chair being examined by the doctor. As she got to her feet, out of nowhere Raven’s ‘mommy’ comment filtered through from her subconscious memory and her smile turned a bit mischievous. “Mommy, can I go play with the other kids?”

Raven stopped chuckling abruptly and blinked at Octavia. “Huh?”

Octavia felt rather gleeful at confusing the most intelligent person she knew, and she walked over, stopping beside the chair. “As in, can I go attend to my queenly duties now, please?” she asked more seriously.

“Oh,” Raven said, and then realization dawned and she said it again. “_Oh_.” And she lightly punched Octavia in the hip. “Yes, get out of here,” she snorted, tapping her cheek for a kiss.

Octavia leaned down and kissed her cheek, then slipped out of the tent and headed for the bunker.

\--

“I’m still not asking.” Abby.

“And I’m still not telling.” Raven.

\--

Octavia was in such a good mood that when she saw Cooper leaning against a tree drawing something she decided to sneak up on her just for fun. And maybe to practice stealth skills. She knew how to move silently but Cooper was good. It wasn’t like sneaking up on the kids she was training to teach them to be ready for anything.

However, Kara proved to be slightly distracted by whatever she was drawing, and Octavia counted it as a victory that she was standing three feet behind the woman. When she saw the drawing, though, she completely forgot that she was trying to be stealthy and blurted out in shock, “you’re fucking Clarke?!”

Kara screamed like a rookie and blindly stabbed with her pencil in the direction of Octavia’s voice on instinct, her body a well-trained machine, but her heart was pounding and she put a hand over it as she shot daggers at Octavia. “_Blodreina_, what the _fuck_,” she complained.

“Is that how you talk to your queen?” Octavia teased, bounding forward and sitting next to her second, closing her eyes briefly as she wished she would have sat down more carefully. That was painful. “And answer the question!”

“You’re in a suspiciously good mood,” Kara said instead, raising an eyebrow and peering sideways at the queen.

“Stop changing the subject,” Octavia drolled. “Since when are you fucking Clarke goody-two-shoes Griffin?”

“I’m not,” Kara hissed, snapping the sketchbook shut. “Don’t say that so loud.”

“Then how did you draw that picture?”

“Imagination.”

“How do you know she shaves?” Octavia smirked.

Kara’s cheeks dusted with a blush and she cleared her throat. “She told me.”

“Really? Because that’s usually the first thing I tell someone I’m not even friends with. Hey, by the way, I shave my pubes.”

Niylah happened to be walking by at that moment and she said without turning or stopping, “no you don’t.”

Octavia gawked after her for so many reasons, then turned to Cooper. “Shut your fucking mouth. It was one time, before the bunker, after she’d just broken up with Clarke.”

“I did not say a thing,” Kara said evenly, employing significant restraint to keep from laughing.

“Okay so you’re not fucking Clarke, but you want to be fucking Clarke?” Octavia persistently returned to the subject she wanted to discuss.

“It’s not that simple. Can we talk about this somewhere else? Or not at all?”

“Somewhere else,” came the obvious choice from the queen. She got to her feet and started leading the way to the bunker. “It’s a damn good drawing, by the way. I didn’t know you liked to draw.”

Kara followed along, subdued. “It’s not something I openly advertise.”

“Why not?”

Jesus, Octavia was chatty tonight. “Because it’s not something typically viewed in the way people typically view me.”

“That’s bullshit, Kara,” Octavia said with a frown as she traipsed up a raised mound of dirt and down the other side.

Kara went around the dirt pile and waited for Octavia to descend, then they continued on. She wasn’t sure what to say in response so she didn’t say anything. Once they were in Octavia’s quarters with the doors shut she sat on her cot and hoped Octavia would just let it go.

“So what’s not simple about it?”

“I can’t afford to be distracted.”

Octavia waited for her to continue, but when that was all she said, the queen groaned. “Cooper, you’re fucking kidding me, right? You think being at the top of the food chain means you can’t get laid? I’m only at the top top top of the food chain because of you, so if I’m getting laid you definitely should be getting laid.”

Kara finally allowed a small grin. “So that’s why you’re in such a good mood.”

“Ballpark reason,” Octavia hedged. “I’m guessing Clarke’s interested if she told you she shaves.”

“She came on to me the other night, and it threw me for a loop. I’m not really into women in general, but she’s been making me laugh, and she said she wouldn’t mind being tied up, and—”

“Oh, Cooper, you _have_ to fuck her,” Octavia insisted when she heard that last part. “Bondage is your thing, right?”

Kara turned bright red having it put like that. “What if I’m with her and you need something?”

“I’m going to kill you,” Octavia said with another groan. “I have Indra. I have Miller. I have Niylah. Don’t say anything about that one. I have Gaia. In the spirit of pre-nuclear Earth, you are hereby suspended for two days without pay. Or with pay. Whatever. You don’t get paid anyway.”

“Two days? Not a chance. I can’t—”

“Wanna make it three?”

Kara flushed again. “No…” She stared down at her hands. “Where am I going to take her?”

Octavia held in a victory dance at the way Kara said ‘going to’ instead of ‘where would I’. “You can use this room.”

Kara’s eyes went wide. “No!”

Octavia snickered at the vehement reaction and then a thought occurred to her and she wondered if she wasn’t a genius like Raven. “Oh my God, take her to ALIE’s house.”

Kara stared at her. “The lighthouse?”

“No!” Octavia pulled a face at that. “The mansion.”

The stare continued. “Mansion?”

“You’ve never been to ALIE’s mansion? It’ll be perfect. Take the rover; Clarke will know how to get you there.”

“The rover is for—”

“The rover is for whatever I say it’s for,” Octavia said, standing up and walking over to Kara, trying to look threatening. Which… what was Raven doing to her? Two weeks ago she would have had to try to _not_ look threatening. Now she had to try to look threatening? Fuck.

“Where would I get rope?” Her excuses were being picked off one by one.

“Miller has rope.”

“Why does Miller have rope?”

“For cutting down trees, climbing trees, bundling lumber…”

Kara put her face in her hands. “I can’t use that, it’s way too thick.”

“Excuse me, I didn’t realize there were rope diameter requirements,” Octavia snorted.

“There are,” Kara nearly groaned. “It has to be less than half the size of the rope you’re talking about, and it can’t be frayed or scratchy.”

“Niylah’s outpost,” Octavia said suddenly. “She has everything. Or she had everything. I can ask if she’ll take us there on a supply run.”

Something flickered to life in Kara’s belly at the possibility but she tried not to dwell on it. Nothing in this world was guaranteed anymore.

Octavia went flying out of the room and Kara had to jump up and run to catch her. “Now? You’re going to ask her right now?”

“Why not right now?”

“I don’t—I’m not—” But what harm could there be in seeing if she could find any rope? That didn’t mean she’d have to go through with it. “Okay.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for... it's something between ageplay, mommy kink, and mommy issues. I'm not exactly sure how to qualify it.
> 
> Also, TW for choking.

“Niylah!” Octavia called when she found the grounder on patrol.

Niylah stopped and turned to the queen, raising an eyebrow in response.

“I need you to take us to your outpost for a supply run,” Octavia said, indicating herself and Kara. “When is your patrol finished?”

“In an hour,” Niylah responded without affect. “I will meet you at the rover, _Blodreina_.” She nodded in acknowledgement to Cooper as well before continuing her rounds.

Kara somehow hadn’t expected it to be that easy, and her stomach fluttered again.

Octavia, still in a ridiculously good mood, slapped Niylah’s ass as she walked away. “See you in an hour!”

Niylah didn’t so much as pause in her step, as used as she was to _Blodreina_’s mercurial moods.

Kara was too focused on other things to make a snide comment about the slap.

\--

A little over an hour later and they were on their way. Kara had chosen to sit in the back and let Octavia take shotgun. She wasn’t much in the mood for conversation, and Octavia probably would have made her sit in the back anyway, so win/win.

“What supplies are we looking for?” Niylah asked as she drove.

“Whatever you’ve got,” Octavia replied. “I’m tired of wearing the same damn tank top every day.”

Niylah said nothing. That was a lie if she’d ever heard one.

Kara was grateful for the lie even if it was obvious. Everyone knew Octavia loved that tank top and that if she wanted anything else to wear there were dozens of people who would give up their own clothes in exchange.

When they got there, Kara climbed out the back and headed inside while Niylah privately cornered Octavia outside the door. “Why did you lie? To protect yourself or Cooper?”

Octavia smirked “I knew you would see right through that. It’s not so much protecting as I didn’t want to embarrass her.”

“Embarrass her?” Niylah asked, intrigued now despite herself. “What could she possibly need that would embarrass her?”

“She needs some rope.”

“Miller has rope.”

“Not that kind of rope. Rope for tying someone up.”

“_Bondage_ rope?” The unshakable Niylah nearly raised her voice at that.

Octavia snickered and nodded. “Shh.”

“Well she’s not going to find it without my help.” Now it was Niylah’s turn to smirk. “It’s in my bedroom.”

Octavia’s jaw hung open as Niylah opened the door and waltzed inside.

Niylah did not feel the need to add that she kept all types of rope back there to make it inconvenient for looters to steal and tie her up with. Octavia could just continue thinking whatever she wanted to think.

Kara didn’t look at either of them, figuring she knew what the holdup had been, and she didn’t want to see the results. She ran her fingers over a few sturdy pieces of leather that could be sliced into belts or cut up and stitched together to make boots, then moved on to look at some woven fabrics.

Niylah emerged from the back with her arms full of rope, dropping them on the counter. “Cooper, come take your pick. I hope you know how to use these safely.”

Kara tried not to turn red as she walked over to survey her options. She wasn’t sure if she was successful or not, but at least Niylah wasn’t laughing. “I do,” she said with a nod in regards to the safety comment. Her eyes were immediately drawn to a delicate light blue coil that would complement Clarke’s eyes, and she picked it up, her pulse quickening. There was another one a bit sturdier but still within the size limit she was looking for, and it was just traditional brown, probably made of hemp. She took that one too and mumbled a thank you to Niylah.

“You should take at least two more,” Niylah offered. “In case you want to tie his or her wrists and ankles all separately.”

Kara wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere, but it made sense, and she took two more standard coils. “It’s appreciated,” she said in an attempt at sounding casual.

“As is my discretion, I’m sure,” Niylah added. “You have nothing to worry about.”

Kara finally looked at her. “Thank you,” she said much more sincerely this time.

“Can I get in on the girl talk and know who you’re planning to use this on?”

Kara’s face paled a little. “I’m afraid if I tell you that, you’ll take your rope back.”

Niylah’s eyebrows arched. “Clarke?” she guessed.

“How did you—”

“Who else’s name would you be afraid to tell me?” She gave Kara a genuine smile and shook her head. “I would never take my rope back for that. I don’t want Clarke to be alone or unhappy just because we’re not together anymore. I have to admit I’m surprised, though. I never would have thought Clarke in a million years.”

“Neither would I.”

Niylah chuckled softly at that and put her hands on Cooper’s shoulders. “Good luck taming that wild beast,” she half teased. “Does she know you’re planning to tie her up?”

“It was her idea, in a way,” Kara confessed.

“The times do change,” Niylah said, surprised again. “When I had _Wanheda_ in my bed, I think if I would have mentioned rope she would have bolted without looking back.”

Octavia finally chimed in from over in the corner where she’d been piling fabrics over her shoulder. “I want some rope.”

“Miller has rope,” Kara joked.

“I want some _bondage_ rope,” Octavia clarified. “Is there any black?”

“This isn’t an emporium,” Niylah said, amused. “But yes, actually, there is one length of black.”

“Yes!” Octavia exclaimed, triumphant. “Toss it over.” She caught it and rubbed it over her cheek with a little purr, imagining Raven trussing her up with it. “Okay, are we ready?”

Niylah and Kara both stared at her and couldn’t help laughing at the way she rubbed the rope over her cheek and purred. “I’m ready,” Kara said. “Do you need anything, Niylah?”

“No,” Niylah shook her head. “We can go.” She nodded at the blue rope in Kara’s hands as she turned to head for the door. “Nice choice.”

\--

As Niylah parked the rover in its usual spot in the camp, Octavia turned around in her seat and looked at Cooper. “So are you going to ask her out? Or are you just kind of going to be like ‘hey, got some rope, let’s do this thing’?”

Kara ran her hands over her face. “Just because I have rope doesn’t mean I’m actually going to use it on her. This was a just-in-case situation, remember?”

“I do not remember. I also don’t remember you being a pussy.”

Niylah shook her head at them as she took her leave. “Good night,” she said and got out of the rover, shutting the door.

Once Niylah was out of the vehicle, Kara narrowed her eyes at Octavia. “Does Raven know you talk to me that way? Somehow I think you’d get a mouthful of soap or at least a face slap for that,” she teased. It was remarkable how easy it became to banter with Octavia once it was allowed.

“If you say one word to Raven I’ll cut out your tongue in your sleep,” Octavia growled, but her words held no real threat.

Kara grinned as she got out of the rover but the grin faded when she found herself face to face with Clarke.

“I heard the rover and wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Clarke said, raising an eyebrow when she saw all the rope Cooper was carrying.

“Supply run,” Kara said and tried to edge her way around the blonde, intending to retreat to the bunker.

“That blue one would make a good loop chain,” Clarke said knowingly. “And it’d bring out my eyes.”

Kara wasn’t a fan of being called out and she replied a little more harshly than necessary, “not everything is about you.”

Clarke wasn’t fooled and when Kara tried to walk away again she slid an arm around the other woman, hand resting on her belly. “Cooper, wait.”

Kara’s breath hitched at the touch, her skin burning through her shirt where Clarke’s hand was pressed. “What?” she managed to ask somewhat normally.

Clarke pulled her closer, against her chest, and rested her chin on Cooper’s shoulder. “Did you get that rope for somebody else?” she whispered.

Kara sighed and leaned her head back on Clarke’s shoulder. “No.”

“I might have cried if you did,” Clarke admitted. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I saw that drawing…” She turned her head slightly to nuzzle her nose against Kara’s cheek. “About how it would feel to be tied down, staring at you, begging you to touch me…”

Kara’s eyelids fluttered despite her resolve to remain unaffected. “I thought you didn’t beg…”

“And you haven’t been with a woman. I figured if you’re going for a first, I might as well too.”

“_Blodreina_ said I should take you to ALIE’s mansion.”

“You talked about me to Octavia?” Clarke asked, genuinely surprised. “And she actually gave you good advice… there are a lot of amenities there that we don’t have here.”

“You know the way?”

“I do…”

“You’re probably busy, though.”

“Yes, I have a ton of things to do in the middle of the night, and that’s why I’m wrapped around someone I used to hate. I’m avoiding duties.”

“I didn’t actually think you were busy, I was just trying to buy myself some time,” Kara said, wriggling out of Clarke’s grasp.

Clarke pouted at her, drawing a finger down the soldier’s arm and watching her fight off a shiver. “You can drive… I know you like to be in control. I’ll just give you directions.”

“_Blodreina_ did suspend me for two days,” Kara ventured slowly.

“Yes, I did,” came Octavia’s voice out of nowhere, and both Clarke and Kara jumped hearing it. Neither of them were accustomed to not knowing they were being watched or listened to. “Get your asses in the rover. Queen’s orders.”

Normally Clarke would have pointed out that she didn’t recognize Octavia as queen and therefore her orders would have no effect, but just this once they had the same end point in mind and she didn’t object, she just got into the passenger’s seat of the nearby vehicle.

When Kara hesitated, Octavia repeated herself. “Queen’s orders, Cooper. Now.”

Kara opened the back and dumped all of her rope in, then slammed the back door and got into the driver’s seat, starting up the rover.

\--

Once Octavia actually saw them drive off together with her own eyes she went to find Raven. Of course her first stop was the machine shop, and yep, Raven was there. She hesitated in the doorway, on the verge of shouting that she’d sent Cooper away for the night and Raven should come fuck her in her own bed, but at the last second she changed tack and tried to make herself look innocent instead.

Raven felt eyes on her and spun around, head tilting at the innocuous expression on Octavia’s face. It was one she hadn’t seen before so it was immediately unnerving. Raven did not like not knowing things, and that included the function of facial expressions. “Hey,” she said haltingly, setting down her wrench.

Octavia shuffled over and pressed herself against Raven’s side. “Mommy, the babysitter left for the night and I don’t want to sleep all alone,” she said in her most vulnerable voice.

The air in the room was sucked out like a vacuum had descended out of nowhere, and Raven waited a beat to see if Octavia was joking, but when nothing else followed, she concluded it wasn’t a joke. “Baby, you know I have to work,” she responded when her brain decided to start working again.

“But it’s late and I miss you,” Octavia said, turning big round eyes on her lover. “Please, Mommy? It’s scary in there by myself.”

Raven steeled herself for her night to take an unprecedented turn and finally gave in. “I have to finish fixing this radio, so if you promise to be good and color a picture or something until I’m done, I’ll bring it with me and come stay with you.”

Octavia hadn’t truly, genuinely expected to get her way and she couldn’t stop an excited squeal. “Promise!”

“Mhmm,” Raven said skeptically, raising an eyebrow. “Last time you promised you got bored and tried to help me,” she ‘reminded’ Octavia. “If you do that again, you’ll be over my knee for a spanking and sent straight to bed, understand?”

“Mommy,” Octavia gasped, hiding her face in Raven’s chest and shaking her head. “I won’t do that,” she almost whined.

Raven smirked and kissed the top of her head. “Let’s go then.”

\--

The drive was quiet except for Clarke giving directions, and Kara stared in awe at the perfectly preserved mansion after she parked in the driveway. “Holy hell,” she breathed. “You’ve been here before?”

“It was a while ago, but yeah. Fully functioning kitchen, showers, laundry machines, you name it. It even has plumbing and television.”

“Where does it get a signal for television?”

“My bad. It has a tv and a dvd player and there’s a whole bunch of movies. I guess she wanted to learn as much about people as she could before she tried to take over the human race.”

“Successfully if not for you, Abby, Raven and Murphy,” Kara pointed out. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

Clarke smirked and got out of the rover. “You’re welcome.”

Once they were inside and had searched the place for squatters, finding none, they locked all the doors and windows just to be safe.

Kara deposited her ropes in the master bedroom and returned to Clarke in the kitchen. “Are you hungry?” she asked, hoping Clarke would say yes.

Clarke looked over at Cooper and shook her head. “No…” She could tell Cooper was nervous, though, and looking for a way to ease into the night, so she provided one. “Do you want to watch a movie? I’m not hungry but I wouldn’t mind some popcorn with a movie.”

Kara had tensed up for a minute but Clarke’s suggestion relaxed her and she nodded. “A movie sounds great. I’ll meet you in the den?”

“I’ll bring popcorn and see if there’s any sodas.”

Kara made her way to the den and chose a random movie, turned on the tv and then got comfortable on the sofa, finding the softness to be a luxury on her bones. She was used to stiff cots and even stiffer seating. She looked up as Clarke came in with a bag of popcorn and two cans of soda.

“It’s even cold,” Clarke said as she handed Cooper a soda and set her own on the coffee table.

Kara took a sip and almost moaned at the feel of the ice-cold liquid sliding down her throat. “Wow. I’d forgotten how good cold drinks could be.”

“Right?” Clarke asked, rounding the sofa and sitting next to Cooper, kicking off her boots and settling against the other woman’s side as she opened the bag of popcorn.

Kara almost bolted off the couch but she was distracted by the smell of fresh butter, and that distraction allowed her to ease into the idea of Clarke snuggling against her. The feeling was immeasurably strange, but, she realized, not unpleasant. How long had it been since she’d felt that human warmth? That connection with someone based on something other than survival? She didn’t even know how long. So she hesitantly draped her left arm around Clarke’s shoulders and told herself to breathe.

Clarke hadn’t expected her choice of seating to be allowed and she was pleasantly surprised when she felt an arm around her. She curled her knees up and wiggled her toes against the cushion beneath her, leaning her head on Cooper’s shoulder. “What did you pick?” she asked.

Kara set her soda on the coffee table next to Clarke’s and picked up the remote, pressing the button that said ‘play’. It was different than the video systems on the ark but all the buttons were labeled so it wasn’t difficult to figure out. “I just grabbed one and put it in,” she admitted, exchanging the remote for her soda, still finding the entire situation hard to process.

Clarke really didn’t care much about the popcorn or the soda… or the movie. She had one arm behind Cooper and she laid the other one across the soldier’s stomach, hand splayed idly on a flat belly. “You didn’t even look at the choices? How nervous are you, Cooper?” Clarke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not,” Kara lied instinctively, narrowing her eyes at Clarke.

“Nothing has to happen,” Clarke said gently, ignoring the lie. “I didn’t like you before because I didn’t understand you.”

“And now you think you understand me?” It came out more bitter than she’d intended.

“More than I used to,” Clarke said honestly.

“Clarke, you’re just looking for a warm body,” Kara finally sighed after staring at the blonde for a few seconds.

Clarke didn’t even flinch. “If that were true do you think I would go after a virgin, so to speak?” Her hand slid over a little further to grasp Kara’s hip; keep her from retreating. “I’m here because there’s something. A spark of something. And I owe it to myself to see if it’s going to ignite or fizzle out.”

Of course Kara was skeptical. She avoided personal entanglements. But if she looked at Octavia and Raven, their relationship made them both stronger, not weaker. Productive, not distracted. “Since that day… the birth of the arena… when I won, I swore to myself that I would never stray again. When _Blodreina_ gave me that second chance, I swore to myself not to squander it, not for any minute of any day. To dedicate my life to the throne. And that’s who I became. I don’t know what else there is anymore. What could I possibly have to offer someone like you?”

“Someone like me?”

Kara nodded. “Impulsive. Passionate. Adventurous. Fierce. An anarchist. A free spirit. What could someone like you want with a single-minded soldier like me?”

“I think you have a blind spot when you look at yourself,” Clarke offered quietly, squeezing Cooper’s hip. “You’re not entirely single minded. You have a softer side, I see it in your drawings. And there’s a side of you that wants things just like any other person. I see that in your drawing of me. Octavia sees it too or she wouldn’t have forbidden you from duty for two days. You’re not the drone I thought you were. Not at all.”

“Yes I am,” Kara tried to argue, tried to make Clarke see what a terrible idea it was to get involved with her. Even if something came out of this, she would make a terrible girlfriend. Her first priority was and would always be _Blodreina_.

Clarke just shook her head and stopped talking, staying pressed up against Cooper’s side as she turned her focus to the movie. Something about dinosaurs. She’d missed the title screen.

There were a lot of jumpy moments in the movie and Kara wasn’t sure whether it was genuine fear or not that had Clarke on her lap halfway through. “Scared?” she teased.

“Maybe,” came Clarke’s cheeky reply. “I can’t really concentrate on the movie. Someone I’m sitting on feels and smells too good.”

“Now I know you’re manipulating me. There’s no way in hell I smell good after a day of training.”

“You do, though,” Clarke insisted, shifting around so she could put her face against Cooper’s neck, inhaling a deep breath through her nose. “I like the smell of sweat. It means you worked hard…”

“Clarke,” Kara breathed, eyes sliding shut, not sure whether to push her away or pull her closer.

“I want to taste you,” Clarke pressed on, just barely refraining from licking Cooper’s throat. “Everywhere. It’s driving me crazy. I want to get on my knees right here and taste your pussy.”

The air left Kara’s lungs with a startled gasp. The stirrings of heat were flicking to life in her belly, logical thought deserting her in the wake of Clarke’s filthy words. “No,” she said, her voice gaining an edge of authority, something she was familiar with; a comfortable place. “The only way you have a chance of tasting my pussy is if you’re tied up and I decide to sit on your face. What part of me liking control did you forget?” She started drawing idle patterns on one of Clarke’s arms with a fingertip.

“Fuck.” Clarke hadn’t expected to have her dirty talk thrown back at her and her stomach clenched. “I didn’t forget, I just…” The light touch on her arm was distracting and her sentence trailed off unfinished.

“Have you ever been with someone who wants complete control?” Kara ventured, continuing the little circles and lines and swirls down over Clarke’s forearm.

Clarke’s arm twitched in response, the touch almost tickling. “No…”

Kara’s response in turn was to clamp her hand down on Clarke’s arm and squeeze, pressing it into the blonde’s lap. “Is it going to be a problem that I want complete control? Do you think it will freak you out? Be honest.”

Clarke closed her eyes and took a minute to think about it before she answered. “I don’t think it will be a problem, but I can’t know for sure.”

Kara was satisfied with that and she kissed the back of Clarke’s neck, then released her arm. “Stand up.”

Holy fuck, Cooper was actually going through with it. Clarke forced herself to her feet on shaky legs, shoving her hands in the pockets of her pants in an attempt to not look awkward.

Kara stood up and moved behind her, running her hands down Clarke’s arms and tugging the girl’s hands out of her pockets. “It’s okay. Just put them like this,” she said, wrapping the fingers of one of Clarke’s hands around her other wrist, behind her back.

Clarke nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and kept her hands behind her back when Cooper let go.

Kara rested her chin on Clarke’s shoulder from behind her and asked, “is it okay for you to walk like this? With your hands behind your back?”

Cooper’s voice so close to her ear made Clarke shiver and she nodded. “Yes. Yeah.”

Kara moved around in front of her and hooked a finger under the hem of Clarke’s shirt, gently tugging her along as she headed for the master bedroom. So far so good; Clarke hadn’t spooked yet.

Clarke wasn’t spooked, she was getting more turned on with every step. By the time they got to the master bedroom she was legitimately wet just from being guided down a hallway with her hands behind her back.

Kara shut the door behind them and clicked the lock, mostly out of habit. “Let your arms fall to your sides,” she said as she started to work Clarke’s jacket over her shoulders.

Clarke put her arms down and focused on remembering to breathe while Cooper divested her of her prized leather jacket. Her eyes tracked it like a hawk, watching as Cooper folded it and set it on the bureau.

“Take off the rest of your clothes, fold them and put them on the bureau with your jacket,” Kara instructed.

“I’m—taking off my own clothes?” Clarke asked, a little thrown by the directive, especially since Cooper had just started the process for her.

“Mhmm,” Kara nodded, leaning against the wall with her arms folded over her chest to watch.

Oh boy. Clarke took in a long, slow breath, exhaling through her nose, not exactly used to stripping while someone watched her. Her shirt was easy, she’d been without one enough times to be comfortable with that and she pulled it over her head, remembering at the last second to fold it neatly and set it on top of her jacket. She kept her bra on for the moment and moved to her pants, undoing them with as much confidence as she could muster and pushing them down her legs, stepping out of them. They were then folded and joined her shirt and jacket. That left her to decide on whether she wanted to take off her bra or underwear next. She didn’t really want to take off either one and her fingers hesitated, the thumbnail of one hand absently scratching back and forth across the pad of her other index finger.

Kara had been watching with rapt attention, devouring every inch of revealed flesh with her eyes. Clarke really did have a fantastic body. Hard in all the right places and soft in the rest. When she hesitated, Kara made the choice for her. “Show me your nipples,” she said quietly. “Are they as hard as they look?”

Clarke jumped slightly when Cooper spoke, nudged out of her indecision. Her hands went behind her back again and she unhooked the clasp, letting the garment slide down her arms and catching it before it could fall on the floor. “Probably,” she answered, hiding a flush as she folded the bra and put it on the bureau.

Kara smirked and reached out to draw both of Clarke’s nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, tweaking them lightly. “I would say that’s a yes… now let me see the rest of you.” She stepped back to make room for Clarke to comply.

Clarke’s cheeks warmed even more as she pushed her underwear down and stepped out of them, draping them across the top of the clothes pile on the bureau and looking anywhere but at Cooper. Was Cooper going to touch her there too?

“Hm, you do shave,” Kara observed with a grin, circling around behind Clarke in a slow, predatory walk. She put her lips to the back of Clarke’s ear and whispered, “so do I.”

Normally Clarke wouldn’t have thought a confession like that would be so erotic, but somehow it was and her nostrils flared as she tried to control her breathing. “Just to put it out there, I’ve been told I’m really good at eating pussy,” she informed the other woman.

Kara laughed and lightly bit the shell of Clarke’s ear. “Yes, I’m sure you said that just for my benefit and not to further your own agenda,” she murmured.

“Absolutely,” Clarke lied in agreement.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Kara promised. She wrapped her arms around Clarke and skated her fingers up and down the blonde’s belly, leaving soft kisses along the back of her neck and across one shoulder. It felt strange, having a female body beneath her hands, but it was quite enjoyable. She nudged Clarke forward until they reached the bed, then dragged her fingernails up her captive’s belly and over her ribs, leaving faint red lines in their wake. “If you want me to stop, just say stop,” she directed after a shiver had wound its way up Clarke’s body. “Or no. I don’t get off on being begged to stop when you don’t mean it, so unless you do get off on that, I’ll take all of your words at face value.”

“I don’t,” Clarke managed to say despite the fuzzy feelings working their way through her brain. “I’ll say no or stop if I need to.”

“I also don’t want to hurt you, I just want to control you, so if something hurts, I expect you to tell me. Right away. Clear?”

Clarke exhaled slowly and nodded. “Clear.”

“I also need you to tell me right away if anything goes numb or tingly at all. Clear?”

Clarke nodded again, swallowing past a little lump of nerves. “Clear.”

Kara turned Clarke to face her, then eased the naked beauty down onto the bed and pushed on her shoulders until she was laid out on her back. “What are you going to tell me right away?” she asked.

Clarke wracked her brain for the answer even though they had literally just talked about it, and she suspected that’s why Cooper was making her repeat it. “If something hurts or goes numb,” she recited. “Or tingly,” she added quickly, not wanting Cooper to think she forgot.

“Have you ever been tied up consensually?” Kara asked, reaching for the coil of blue rope and starting to unwind it. She knew Clarke had been captured and hostaged and kept prisoner plenty of times, but that was obviously a whole other ballgame.

“I—no,” Clarke answered, her eyes drawn to Cooper’s methodical actions, her racing heart calming a bit as she watched dexterous fingers slowly uncoil the rope.

Kara nodded, and when the rope was undone she ran it through her fingers with an appreciative sigh, then set it aside and crawled over Clarke, looking down at her. “There’s something I would like you to do for me,” she said quietly, her stomach clenching at the thought.

Clarke looked up at her, just stopping herself from saying she’d do anything. “Okay,” she said instead.

“I’d like you to call me Ma’am,” Kara requested. “Do you think you would be comfortable with that?”

Clarke’s eyes fluttered closed and she forced them open, her throat like sandpaper when she swallowed. “Yes Ma’am,” she whispered in a scratchy voice.

Kara tightened all of her muscles to ride out the wave of arousal that rocked through her and appear unaffected. “Thank you,” she said with a genuine grin, shifting her weight to her knees so she could run her fingers through Clarke’s hair. She reached for the blue rope and trailed it across the girl’s chest, then took Clarke’s right arm and worked the rope around her bicep, beginning the loop chain from her drawing.

Clarke shuddered and her breathing picked up speed just out of instinct. She turned her head to watch Cooper work, unable to resist. Having a rope wound around her arm so gently felt strange, and as Cooper made the first loop, she appreciated the aesthetic quality of the design. She held her arm still, and slowly the entire thing was covered in soft blue rope from bicep to wrist, each loop in the chain perfectly aligned with the one before it. “That looks amazing,” she breathed. “Ma’am.”

Kara hummed her agreement and traced the rope with one fingertip. “But how does it feel?”

“It feels strange, but soft… like the rope is caressing my skin rather than binding it. Ma’am.” That word would take a little getting used to. It was definitely a thrill, she just had to keep reminding herself to say it. And she definitely liked this side of Cooper.

Kara nodded at the answer and lifted Clarke’s hand, slipping the tail of the rope between two of the slats in the headboard and tying it off. “I would imagine if you move your arm just right and pull at the same time you might be able to get out of that,” she said. “But I could be wrong; it could pull tighter and cut off your circulation, so let’s not find out, okay?”

“Right,” Clarke said with a nervous wriggle. “I mean yes Ma’am.”

“It’s okay if you forget,” Kara said at the way Clarke rushed to add the last part. “It’s more important for you to really take in what I’m saying and understand it.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Clarke said with a blush, and then blurted out unceremoniously, “I didn’t expect you to be this nice.”

Kara paused in her reach for the next coil of rope and tilted her head slightly. “Did you want me to be mean?”

“No,” Clarke rushed to clarify. “It’s good. It’s really good. I guess I wasn’t sure what I expected, actually.”

“Fair enough,” Kara accepted that explanation and picked up another piece of rope, starting to unwind it. “If I didn’t treat you with respect, I wouldn’t deserve your compliance. That’s how I see it, anyway. I’m not—wait a minute. Did you expect it to be like Octavia and Raven?”

“I didn’t know,” Clarke said honestly. “I had no frame of reference. But I’m glad it’s not, Ma’am.”

“It’s not my style,” Kara said as she finished uncoiling the second length of rope. “That doesn’t mean I won’t spank you if you misbehave, though,” she added with a little half smirk.

Clarke turned about five shades of red. “I’m—I mean I’m not—I mean I—I—” She put her free hand over her face and groaned. “I mean yes Ma’am.” It was still weird to say, but it sent a jolt between her legs every time.

“I’m sure you won’t misbehave,” Kara said with a quiet snicker.

“Not like I don’t deserve one for everything terrible I’ve already done,” Clarke muttered.

“Who doesn’t? I mean honestly, can you think of one person who doesn’t?”

“Niylah?”

Kara opened her mouth to argue but ended up shutting it. “Maybe Niylah. I’ll give you that. Although she did some questionable things before the bunker door got opened, too. We all did.”

“You really, really haven’t slept with Octavia?”

“I really, really haven’t. How is that related…?”

“It’s not. I just can’t stop thinking that you were so close to her all that time down there and—”

“Don’t be jealous, Clarke. You’re the first girl I’ve even kissed.”

Clarke blushed again. “Yes Ma’am.”

“You’re the first girl I’ve even _wanted_ to kiss,” Kara continued, leaning her head down to brush her lips across Clarke’s cheek. “Or do this with,” she added, wrapping her fingers around Clarke’s left wrist and pinning it to the bed beside her head. “Are you ready to be truly at my mercy, Clarke?”

Clarke’s breath left her in a rush and she closed her eyes while she breathed back in, then slowly opened them, a shiver running up her spine. “Yes Ma’am,” she whispered.

Kara didn’t show how much those two little words affected her, but on the inside she was a hot mess. Dripping wet, tongue tied and aching for something between her thighs. She began the process of tying Clarke’s wrist in a Lark’s head single column, also like her drawing, and every loop or wrap or pull sent tiny shockwaves through her until her hands started to shake. She affixed the tail end of the rope to the headboard, giving Clarke about a three-inch range of motion. “Are you doing okay?” she asked softly.

“Yes Ma’am,” Clarke said, exhaling through her nose and licking her lips in a vain attempt to wet them. Everything felt so dry, with the exception of her pussy.

Kara took a moment to observe her work; observe Clarke, naked and bound, her chest and face flushed beautifully. A month ago, if someone had told her she’d be in this situation she probably would have slit their throat. Now, though, she wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Couldn’t really even imagine wanting to be anywhere else. Clarke was gorgeous, and fierce, and funny… and the perfect amount of submissive. A sudden wave of affection washed over her and she took Clarke’s face in her hands, pressing their lips together as she breathed in the blonde’s scent like air.

Clarke whimpered into the unexpected kiss, forgetting for the moment that her hands were tied and trying to reach for Cooper’s hair, her shoulders, anything. She gave a frustrated whine when she couldn’t accomplish it and squirmed beneath the other woman.

Kara completely got off on the fact that Clarke wanted to reach for her and couldn’t. Blood rushed through her veins and her clit pulsed with need, but she ignored it in favor of kissing Clarke harder. Her tongue probed into her captive’s mouth, exploring and claiming the entirety of it.

Clarke pulled on her bonds, straining against them, then remembered Cooper’s instructions about her right arm when the rope started to tighten.

Kara broke the kiss and checked the loop chains when she noticed Clarke pulling on the ropes, frowning as the light blue one tightened. “I told you not to pull on this one,” she said as she deftly untied it from the headboard and unwound it from Clarke’s arm.

“I’m sorry, I forgot,” Clarke said breathlessly. “You’re an extremely good kisser.”

Kara raised an eyebrow but let it slide, silently appreciating the compliment. When she got the last loop undone she made a quick Lark’s head for that wrist as well and secured it to the headboard once again. “Now you can pull all you want,” she said.

Clarke felt bad for ruining the beautiful design. “I’m sorry, Ma’am,” she said softly.

Kara shivered and resumed her position on all fours above Clarke. “Apology accepted,” she reassured the girl, capturing her lips in another heated kiss.

\--

Octavia was indeed getting bored of coloring (with some colored pencils they had liberated from Clarke’s tent before leaving the camp) and was Raven ever going to be done with that damn radio? “Mommy,” she called, and to her credit it was maybe only the third time she’d interrupted out of about a hundred times that she’d wanted to.

Raven grunted at the stubborn machine in her hands and looked over at Octavia. “What?”

“Can you take a break and play with me? You’ve been working forever,” Octavia asked in what she hoped was a plaintive voice that didn’t sound whiny.

“I’m almost done, baby, just give me ten more minutes,” Raven said, turning back to the radio. She only had one more piece to attach, it was just being an asshole.

“Okay,” Octavia pouted slightly but went back to coloring.

A few seconds later the piece popped into place and Raven grinned triumphantly. “Got you, motherfucker,” she cursed at the offending equipment, then set it on the nightstand and wandered over toward Octavia, who looked adorable sitting on the floor coloring a picture, she had to admit.

Octavia looked up as Raven approached. “Are you done?” she asked hopefully. “Did you fix the motherfucker?”

Raven’s eyes widened and she slapped Octavia lightly on the mouth. “Watch your language,” she said incredulously. “I don’t ever want to hear you speak like that.”

Octavia yelped at the smack and turned away from Raven, grabbing her picture and crumpling it up, then curling in a ball and leaning against the wall. “You said it!” she yelled after a minute of forcing herself to start crying. “That’s not fair. I hate you!”

Raven was further taken aback by Octavia’s reaction, so different from the norm, but she reminded herself this wasn’t the norm and she leaned down to pick up the crumpled paper, carefully smoothing it out. “Is this me and you?” she asked quietly, squatting down beside Octavia.

“No!” Octavia suddenly screamed violently, turning to look at Raven with tears streaming down her cheeks. “It’s me and a good Mommy who’s fair and doesn’t hit me! I hate you! Leave me alone!” She scrambled to her feet and gave Raven a hard enough shove to knock her on her ass, then ran into the bathroom and slammed the door.

“Jesus Christ,” Raven muttered, setting the picture down and getting to her feet with a groan, following after Octavia while trying to decide how best to respond.

Octavia leaned against the door breathing hard, trying to escape the onslaught of emotions she’d dredged up. She hadn’t expected it, but once she made herself start crying, somehow the tears became more and more real, and even though she was only pretending to be a child, the helplessness was a parallel that bridged the gap between that role and her grown self, and now she didn’t know how to get rid of it all. So she cried out her rage, destroying the bathroom’s contents in the process.

When Raven heard things start breaking she jerked open the door and grabbed Octavia, pinning the girl’s arms at her sides and squeezing her tight enough to effectively immobilize her top half.

Octavia couldn’t move her arms or get away from Raven, but she kicked for all she was worth, shattering the shower door and taking a shard of glass in the ankle.

Raven dragged her backwards out of the bathroom and stood in the middle of the bedroom so there was nothing for her to reach. She would have been impressed with Octavia’s ability to throw a temper tantrum if she couldn’t tell there was something else going on.

“I hate you!” Octavia kept screaming as she tried to get away. “Mommy, I hate you! I hate you Mommy!”

Raven just waited it out, hands locked together over Octavia’s ribs. It took a long time, but once Octavia tired herself out, Raven sat on the bed with the girl in her lap and stroked her hair.

“I’m sorry,” Octavia whispered, tears still falling. She felt completely out of control. Lost. Adrift in a sea of confusing emotions, but with Raven as her anchor. At least there was that. No matter how lost she got, Raven was her constant. “I don’t know—”

“Shh,” Raven said, shaking her head. “Later. We need to get you to the doctor and get that glass out of your ankle.”

Octavia’s gaze snapped down to the jagged glass sticking out of her ankle. She hadn’t even known it was there. She couldn’t feel much of anything when she was that upset, but now that Raven had drawn her attention to it, she grimaced. At least it wasn’t bleeding, not yet. Not until Abby would remove the shard.

\--

An hour later they were back in the bunker, Octavia’s ankle glass free, stitched, and bandaged securely. She sat awkwardly on the bed, waiting for Raven to speak.

Raven sat down next to her and just looked at her for a minute. “Do you really hate me, baby?” she asked.

Octavia was a little surprised that Raven was still using her mommy voice, but she shook her head and threw her arms around Raven’s neck. “No, no,” she promised, squeezing tight. “I don’t know why I said that, Mommy, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… do you hate me?”

“Of course I don’t hate you,” Raven said gently. “Your feelings are always valid, baby, even if your behavior was unacceptable. You are getting a spanking and going to bed, though, and we’ll talk about this in the morning.”

There was nothing Octavia wanted less than a spanking and being sent to bed. She almost broke role just to tell Raven where she could fucking shove it, but she had started this. Raven hadn’t asked for it, she had. “Mommy, I don’t want a spanking, and I’m not tired,” she argued instead. “Can’t we just talk about it now?”

“We cannot,” Raven said resolutely. “Don’t argue with me after what you pulled, Octavia. You could have been hurt much worse than a piece of glass in your foot.”

“My ankle,” Octavia corrected her miserably.

“Your ankle,” Raven said with a little roll of her eyes. “Stand up and pull your pants down, baby, and don’t make me tell you twice.”

“Mommy,” Octavia said pleadingly, even as she got to her feet and undid her pants, pushing them down to her knees. “Please don’t spank me, I’m sorry, please, I just wanted to play with you, I don’t want to go to bed early please Mommy…”

“Pull down your underwear,” Raven said, not giving an inch.

Octavia finally gave in, pulling her underwear down and bending across Raven’s lap. “I know I was bad,” she whispered.

“Your behavior was bad,” Raven clarified. “You were not bad.” She raised her hand and brought it down firmly across Octavia’s bare bottom.

That got all of Octavia’s attention and she let out a gasp. Raven had hit her with a paddle, a belt, her gauntlet laces, but never her hand like this. When the second smack fell she held in a groan of pleasure, not wanting to ruin the mood. But it felt so, so good. It stung, but in a deeply arousing kind of way. In the kind of way that made her want so many other things.

Raven kept the intensity low, staying within the boundaries for the type of scenario they were involved in, and after about ten firm swats she stopped. “Put your pajamas on and get in bed,” she said gently but resolutely. “We’ll talk about everything in the morning.”

By the time Raven was done Octavia was drenched and throbbing, her pussy so hot she thought she would crawl out of her skin. The real punishment wasn’t the spanking, it was maintaining the little kid persona and not being able to beg Raven to fuck her. “I’m sorry Mommy,” she said instead with a sniffle, climbing off of Raven’s lap and pulling up her pants and underwear, then making her way to where she kept her clothes and rooting out something to sleep in. She kept her tank top on and traded the rest for a dry pair of underwear and some light linen shorts. Not the most flattering shorts, but she was too hot for pants.

Raven watched Octavia get into night clothes and flop on the bed behind her. She stood up and leaned down to kiss the girl’s forehead. “Good night, baby.”

“I love you Mommy,” Octavia murmured, then started to roll on her side but stopped and sat up abruptly, eyes wide, her regular self firmly back in place, all childlike nuances gone without a trace. “No! That’s not what I—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Raven snarled, grabbing Octavia by the throat and slamming her backward into the headboard, Mommy Raven vanishing into the proverbial mist.

Octavia gasped for breath, her air flow cut off almost completely, and even if she wanted to keep talking, she wouldn’t have been able.

Raven waited until Octavia’s eyes started to roll back and then released her.

Octavia felt things starting to go black, but then Raven let go and the air whooshed back into her lungs, making her cough pretty violently in between frantic, sucking breaths. This was going to be it. The moment Raven would walk away; be done with her; toss her aside and never look back. She wasn’t afraid of dying, she was afraid of losing the one thing she cherished above all else. But she didn’t speak. She had been told to shut the fuck up, and she did. Even after she felt like she _could_ speak, she didn’t. She just sat breathing hard and staring at Raven.

Raven’s brain was exploding, she was sure of it. What else could hurt so bad when she hadn’t even been hit? Her temples pounded as she paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She didn’t know if she was more upset that Octavia might not have meant that… or if she had. Either way was a minefield.

Finally she just said fuck it and stopped pacing, tore off Octavia’s shorts and underwear and buried two fingers roughly inside her, groaning at the amount of slickness and heat. Octavia was on fire.

Octavia didn’t know what was coming until Raven was tearing off her clothes, but she still cried out in surprise at the sudden and rough entry. Her legs spread immediately and she rocked into Raven’s fingers, crying out again when she felt a third one force its way in.

“Listen to me, you can’t fucking say that,” Raven was almost begging, her tone of voice a sharp contrast to the harshness of her thrusting fingers. “Even if we’re just playing, you can’t…” She swiped her thumb across Octavia’s clit, but that wasn’t nearly good enough and she shifted positions so she could suck it into her mouth instead, working it over with her tongue as her fingers slammed in deep over and over.

The sensual assault proved too much for Octavia’s body to handle and she came with a shuddering moan, tears sliding down her face as she collapsed bonelessly and slid down the mattress until she was laying on her back. She threw an arm over her eyes to hide herself from Raven’s scrutiny, sure she wouldn’t like what she saw.

Raven left her fingers nestled inside Octavia and used her free hand to knock the girl’s arm away from her face. “You realize I love you, right? And I don’t want you to say it because that makes me a pussy for not saying it?”

Octavia stared at her in awe, praying she’d heard right. “I—how would I realize?” she finally breathed, her voice a wisp of its usual self.

Raven started to answer but realized she didn’t have a good one, so she just snorted and laid down next to Octavia, finally inching her fingers out. She brought them to her mouth and sucked them clean, then draped her arm over Octavia’s stomach. “I guess you wouldn’t,” she finally concluded. “And I know you didn’t mean it anyway, but that’s co—”

“I didn’t mean it like this when I said it before, but that’s just because I’m a pussy too. I do, though. Love you. I do love you. A scary amount.”

Raven nodded. “Then we’re both pussies and we don’t need to say it again,” she said, relief flooding her chest at Octavia’s answer though she kept it off of her face.

Octavia beamed at her without meaning to, the lightness in her eyes apparently too strong to be contained. “Copy that.” She put a hand on Raven’s that was draped across her and her smile turned a bit sheepish. “So I guess I have some Mommy issues…”

\--

Clarke strained to get closer, to get Cooper’s tongue further in her mouth, but her bonds held fast and she flopped back to the bed with a grunt, jerking harder on the ropes out of frustration. “I want to touch you,” she complained, jerking the ropes again. She couldn’t remember ever wanting to touch someone so badly and figured it was because she couldn’t.

Kara ground her hips down against Clarke’s thighs. The feeling of power over the legend beneath her was trying so hard to go to her head, but she kept it at bay; kept it healthy. She ran her hands along Clarke’s cheeks and down over her chest, palming her breasts and rubbing hard nipples with her thumbs. “I’m so fucking wet, Clarke,” she said in a low growl, nipping Clarke’s bottom lip with her teeth.

Clarke groaned and jerked the ropes again, feeling the chafing on her wrists that she’d probably regret tomorrow but at the moment felt perfect. “Jesus Christ, Cooper—Ma’am,” she panted breathlessly. “Please let me feel. You’re driving me fucking crazy… I swear to God I’ll make you come so hard if you let me touch you…” She was constantly squirming by now, unable to hold still.

“You’re begging,” Kara whispered into her ear, pinching her nipples.

Clarke whined and she really thought she was going to go crazy if Cooper didn’t let her touch her. Another fierce yank on the ropes and one of the wood slats splintered, freeing her right hand. She gasped and immediately turned her head to look.

Kara didn’t have time to be shocked because wood splinters were headed straight for Clarke’s head. She deflected them with her left arm, and when the blonde was safe, then she took the time to be shocked. “That was unexpected,” she finally said after staring for a few long seconds.

Clarke reached for Cooper and whimpered when the other woman jumped off the bed. “It was an accident,” she rushed to say, afraid Cooper was going to want to pack up and leave.

“Was it?” Kara asked, staying out of reach. Clarke’s left wrist was still secured to the bed.

“Yes,” Clarke swore. “I had no idea that would break. Please come back, I’m sorry, Ma’am, please…”

“I’m not upset that you broke the bed,” Kara clarified. “I’m upset because as soon as your arm was free you tried to touch me without permission. You knew the rules.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke said again. “Please… you don’t understand, you’re just so fucking irresistibly hot… I wasn’t trying to break your rules on purpose, it was just instinct… you have me so wrecked right now and I don’t know what to do with myself. Please, Cooper…”

Well she had been called many things in her life, but ‘fucking irresistibly hot’ was a new one. If she was honest, it caused a little flare in the pride department and knocked her irritation down a peg or two. She stepped over to the bed and untied Clarke’s left arm from the bed, letting the rope’s tail hang free while the Lark’s head stayed fixed around the girl’s wrist. The cloudy tears in normally bright blue eyes did her in and she sighed, grabbing Clarke around the back of the neck and pulling her to her feet. She half expected to feel hands on her waist or around her back, but she was pleasantly surprised when Clarke kept her word and didn’t touch her.

She undid her pants and grabbed one of Clarke’s hands, guiding it past the waistband of her underwear and down between her thighs. As soon as she felt the touch and knew Clarke had felt how wet she was, she tugged it back out. “Go stand facing the wall with your hands beside your head.”

Clarke gasped at the sensation, her fingers slipping on Cooper’s heat before it was over and she had to clear her head to register the directive. Once she did she nodded on an exhale and turned to find the nearest wall. “Yes Ma’am,” she managed to breathe, stepping up to the wall and putting her hands against it, on either side of her head. When she heard Cooper’s belt whooshing out of its loops her throat went dry. Again. “My mom spanked me once when I was thirteen and I cried like a baby,” she said in a rush, all her words coming out too close together.

Kara couldn’t help laughing. “Thirteen is a little old for a spanking from your parents, isn’t it?”

“She caught me getting high off of stolen plant matter,” Clarke explained.

Another laugh snorted out. “Let me guess… you were with Jasper and Monty?”

“And Murphy and Wells,” Clarke added. “I shoved Wells under my bed so she wouldn’t know he was there. Chancellor’s son and all, she would have been paranoid he’d rat me out to his father.”

“I hate to tell you, but this is gonna hurt worse than that possibly could have,” Kara said, not really sorry. “But I’m confident it will teach you to keep your fucking hands to yourself.”

Clarke bit her lip to hold in a whimper and swallowed her nerves. “Yes Ma’am,” she finally said, leaning her forehead on the wall. Somehow the fact that she still had Cooper’s elegant knots around her wrists with the rope tails hanging down was like… the biggest turn on.

“Okay,” Kara said, folding the belt in half. “Get ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to end the chapter in the middle of things but holy hell it was getting so long, and I haven't posted in forever, so I just decided to post what I've got.


End file.
